


The Black Knight and the Lady

by Wargmom



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Attempted Seduction, Attraction, Class Issues, Courtship, F/M, Love/Hate, Marriage Proposal, Money, POV Female Character, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 35
Words: 76,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1437904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wargmom/pseuds/Wargmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story I had submitted but am now re-editing to reflect the fandom of Robin Hood (2006) and especially Guy of Gisborne,  Will Scarlet and an OFC named Nyssa. I didn't like the names and some of the plot of the previous story I had written under the name The Dark Knight and the Lady, though the first several chapters are the same. This is set in an AU after Marian's death in S2 of Robin Hood. Nyssa and Guy are drawn into varying circumstances, gradually creating a complex attraction, and their class differences and duty to others reflect this.  I have a story sketched out which I am re-vamping, so please come back, read and review! I would love to know what you think of this story!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The sound of three sets hoof-beats suddenly stirred me from my reverie. I glanced back at Father, whose eyes now held a barely contained panic that he was trying to govern, I could tell, for my sake. 

“Go into the back room! “ Father immediately whispered, rounding his face to mine. “Close the secret door and keep very quiet. He doesn’t know you’re back and the last thing we need is another occupancy tax levied on our dwelling. Hurry,” he said gently, handing me a gray woolen shawl. “Wrap up in this, it’s cold back there. And for God’s sake, don’t make a sound.” The last was said with quiet desperation and a brief, loving glance. 

I immediately understood. The back room was a kind of secret room Father had built for Mother to do washing and flower drying in, and to store goods for the black market. When growing up as a child, my friends and I had played in it and often made Mother laugh with our attempts to fly in and out of the small door the fastest and without incident. Father had built to door conceal like a puzzle piece when fit into the back wall, and nothing in the construction of the house gave away its presence, for there was only one very high window that let in a bit of sunlight, and made the room pleasantly warm in the spring and summer. Remembering the trick of this, I pushed against the small cutout of wood and scurried through the back cubby, pulling the hatch back into place as I slid through the small door. When I was a child, I thought nothing of throwing myself through it, sometimes landing upon a soft pile of clothing Mother had washed, other times, scraping my knees badly on bare floor. This time it was the latter. I gritted my teeth as the green linen of my dress made a small ripping sound, but managed to balance myself in time not to fall. Father had been right; the room was barely above freezing because of the draft from the back door he had yet to fix. I nearly coughed in the chill air, and squatted down in a corner, as if somehow this would hide me, feeling it was in the nick of time.

The front door banged open unceremoniously. I then easily heard two sets of heavy footsteps. Armed guards, they sounded like, with clinking mail and brusque voices, immediately ordering Father to sit and wait for the third of their party. I could feel Father’s panic rising as he sat, and couldn’t help myself. I peered through the very slight opening in the wall to see what was happening. While I couldn’t see the door, I saw a long shadow fall over the wall, alerting me to the fact that a third party now entered the house. These footsteps, however, were as silent and balanced as those of a cat stalking a mouse. I heard no armor as their owner moved through the room to stand in front of my father, who was now chattering in a quick, high tenor:  
“Sir Guy, I would have prepared supper and a cup of wine, had I known to expect you! How can I be of service, my lord?”  
My lord? I thought, shivering. A knight, then? Perhaps one of the landed gentry’s ugly henchmen; but then, Father has mentioned taxes. I stiffened, my fists clenched, my mind reeling with images of my father being dragged off only minutes after I had seen him.  
“Whingeing little mouse,” one of the guards muttered, laughing. “E’s all strung up now that you’re ‘ere, Sir Guy. Wonder what ‘e’s hidin’ this time?”

This time? I thought, my own panic rising. Had Father been caught trying to sell his wool to the black markets? He must have been in much more dire straits than he had wanted me to believe, if it was so. I stood up and quietly moved to another small opening in the wall, trying to see.  
Then a voice cut across my father’s response, and stopped all of my thoughts in their tracks.

“Is there anything I should be aware of, Master Edan?”

My breath froze in the middle of inhaling, and despite the chill of the room, I felt s stab of warmth invade my body. Scorching with masculinity, this was not a voice to be trifled with. It was one of the deepest baritones I had heard in my life, a northern accent adding roughness to its honeyed finesse. This voice knew answers before it asked any query. 

My father, equally affected, turned to stand from his seated position. “Sir Guy, you know of my financial troubles. But as far as I am aware, I am paid up until next month for all of my family’s taxes.”

Don’t speak again, I thought. He will know you are lying, I thought furiously. My kneeling position began to ache as I listened for a response. None came, but I slowly made out sounds indicating that the owner of that voice strode about the house with feline grace and predatory energy. My father stood perfectly still as those light, fearsome steps invaded the front room, the kitchen, bedroom, and came back to rest in front of my father. I didn’t dare move myself for fear of being heard. I had already ascribed the senses of a large cat to this formidable being; suppose he also had the sensitive hearing of one? 

For a few seconds, nothing was said and the tension in the room was palpable. Then suddenly, my view was of Father was blocked by the owner of that voice stepped right in front of my crack in the wall, and my hiding place. Whoever the speaker was, his frame was exceptionally tall to fill this space. I gingerly turned away from the crack, smelling horses and sun worn leather. Panic clawed at my throat and there was a pause, every instinct of my body screaming, Move back! Move as far way as possible! I knew though that at this proximity, I would be heard. I covered my mouth, in case the cold caused me to breathe in sharply or cough.

Another endless minute passed. Then: “Have you employed a new washerwomen, Master Edan?”

“No, Sir Guy,” Father answered, just a bit too quickly. “Since my wife died—“

“How odd.” Three more prowling steps, very close now to the puzzle door of the secret room. “I smell…lilies. “ Turning back to Father: “And your house has of late smelled of death and woad, Master Edan.”

“I am most sorry for offending you, Sir Guy,” Father began humbly. “I know that you are used to finer—“

“Yes, I am,” answered the voice languorously. “I wonder, therefore, why I do smell,” the voice moved swiftly away from me and toward my father, “clean linen and lilies?”

Father hesitated before giving in. “You have guessed it, Sir Guy,” he said carefully. “I have taken up with a washerwoman from the village and she uses crushed lily in her soaps for me. The ladies say they like it better when they come for my fabrics. Good sales, very good sales.”

Another pause. “Her name?” the voice barked.

“Annie Stillwell,” Father said, without a moment’s hesitation. “She lives round the gate with the sunflowers---“

“I know where she lives, I passed there just this morning,” returned the voice, still sounding suspicious. “I did not see lilies in the garden, though.”

“Oh, not around here, Sir Guy, you have to go to the forest to find them,” Father said casually. “I’ve told her where they are; it’s a secret place that only my family found. My wife often brought them home.” 

I found my eyes, against my will, stinging at the mention of Mother. My beautiful soft Mother, who had a way with anything of a green nature. This part of what Father had said was true. She often went walking to find wild flowers, and my favorite had always been the lily. She brought them home for me on many occasions, allowing me to keep them much past their prime, because of their beauty and strength. I suppose that was why today, I had crushed the remainder of that lily of the valley in my towel as I dried my hair.

“Well, someday you must show me where you get them, Master Edan. I might like to take a few for Lady Elspeth at the manor.” With that, the shadow passed away from my hiding place, and those feline steps strode confidently to the threshold of my Father’s door. “You are paid up until next month, when I shall collect from you again. Do not be late.” The sounds of the two guards followed shortly and then all the breath came back to my body as I heard the sound of horseshoes begin to beat away into the distance. I took a long, shuddering breath, and found that upon exhaling it, I was wracked with sobs. Now safe, I allowed myself to give into them, tears wetting my dress and staining my shawl. It was only the slight pop of the secret door and Father’s warm arms around my shoulders that allowed them to trail off. I collapsed into him, trying to calm myself, and heard him gently say, “I’m so sorry you had to witness that, my dearest love. And your mother…oh, my darling.”

When I could more easily breathe, I rasped out, “Father. Who is he?”  
My father was silent for a moment before he answered.  
“Someone who, if he were aware of your existence, would be a great danger to you. His name is Sir Guy of Gisbourne, and he is the Sheriff’s primary enforcer in this area. “  
I held myself still closer to him. “Has he hurt you before, Father?” The fingers of my hand twisted in anger at the thought.  
“Not myself, darling, but he is ruthless. The spinner down the creek, Delaram, was unable to pay his occupancy tax last month. The next time I saw Delaram his index finger was missing in payment.” My eyes widened. Father’s living would be twice as difficult if he had lost any part of his hand, but to do this to a spinner…  
“So he is cruel then,” I said coldly.   
“He expects payment, as any enforcer does, and will take it in any form.” Here he glanced at me, his look laden with meaning. “Without my black market trade, I could never pay the exorbitant tax he demands on my land and animals, so I’m certain he suspects that I have other illegal income. As of yet, he has not discovered this room, but the man seems to have a sixth sense.”  
I nodded vigorously, remembering his stalking around each room of the house before standing right in front of my hiding place.

“So, my darling,” Father said, standing me up. “We must find another place to hide the goods, for I am sure he will find this room; it is inevitable. I was so pleased for you to come home after this many years from your aunt, but also because you and your mother were so clever at finding places in the forest that no one else would see.” I smiled a bit at this, thinking of many hidden areas from my childhood and wondered if they were still there. “Shall we find one today, my love?” Father asked.


	2. Chapter 2

Quite lost in thought of what would make an inexpensive, delightful picnic to the woods, I missed the closing of the front door, and then a familiar voice froze me in my path. “Good afternoon, Lindson. My men and I are famished and need a supper immediately.”

“Of course, Sir Guy,” Lindson responded smartly, immediately ignoring me. His eyes shifted to the left, indicating that I should move off, but I didn’t dare turn to face the owner of that deep baritone that I had heard last week. Instead, I lingered at the bread counter, gently examining this roll and that, trying to dawdle my way towards the corner of the store and its exit. I thanked heaven for the long cloak and hood Father had insisted I wear against the cold. It was a deep sea green, and might have even passed for a lady’s cloak from the back, if I was careful with my manners.  
I sensed his presence near and behind me, also examining the wares of the store, and tried to turn so that I could use peripheral vision to avoid looking him in the face. While blurred, I vaguely made out a figure, still right by the door, and clad entirely from head to toe in black leather. His height was impressive and movements languid at the same time, as if he was in no hurry. Yet I sensed that somehow his attention had pinpointed and focused on myself, the only other customer in the shop. An edge of panic rising, I began casually taking loaves out of my basket and returning them to Lindson’s trays. I had to leave as quickly as possible. I felt my face flushing out of nerves and anxiety, and was near done with my task when I turned and was confronted immediately with his formidable physique blocking my path. 

“My lady, have you finished with your purchase?” he intoned in that irresistible and merciless voice.

Not daring to look up, I slowly replied. “N-no my lord, but I had thought to return later. Once others have made theirs,” I stammered.

“I assure you there is no need for that,” he mused seductively. “The Sheriff has great patience. He is even known to assist those less fortunate.” I felt rather than saw his gloved hand reaching for my basket. Moving backwards, and still attempting to conceal my face, I ejected, 

“My thanks, my lord, but I am able to pay for my own goods. I have no need of charity.” Aware of this social insolence, I clumsily moved backwards to avoid touching him, and awkwardly stepped on my own cloak. This caused me to nearly trip and fall, and I grabbed at a nearby post for balance, the motion upsetting my hood and letting it fall free along with my hair. I was face to face with him, though I didn’t dare to look up at my societal superior. Terrified, I waited for him to strike me or throw me out of the shop for my impudence.

My surprise could not have been greater when a black-gloved hand gently turned my face upwards to look into his. I immediately found myself blushing with the boldness of this gesture, but didn’t dare to move. My own breath was stunted as I looked up at the man that terrified half of the county.

The moment itself was most disarming. I had expected an ugly, scab ridden noble with pockmarks and a cruel expression twisting his lips. As my eyes traveled upwards past broad shoulders and a slender frame, I was most overwhelmed by this man’s great height of over six feet and forceful masculinity, rendering me speechless. I looked into his face, which was rakishly handsome, with an aquiline nose and piercing blue eyes above it that bore into my own. His lips paused in what appeared to be mid-remark as he looked at me hungrily. For a moment, this odd regard lasted as I attempted to regain my composure, eventually breaking away from his stare and childishly saying. I will buy my own goods, though I thank the Sheriff for his generosity.”

The look of surprise in his face was nearly comical, with more than a hint of amusement. “My lady,” he said, “why are we not acquainted? I have never seen you at the Manor.”

“I have not been presented, my lord, as I have lived with my aunt in London for many years, though I was bred here.” I hurriedly began tossing random breads, cheeses and meats into my basket to move away from him and complete my purpose for the shop visit. Back in motion and away from that disturbing gaze, I rushed to the counter to pay for my meal, spilling coins onto the counter as I hastily opened my purse. Lindson appeared hastily, attempting to scoop most of them up.

It was then that a black clad arm covered my hand and the coins. I felt him immediately behind me, my back against his chest, and that overwhelming scent of sun worn leather in my immediate consciousness. His face was nearly next to mine, only a few inches apart, as he murmured, “Accept this then as my gift to you, my lady, and the Sheriff’s, as a welcome home to Nottingham County.” He turned his head every so slightly, so close now I could feel his breath on my cheek, leaning across me to reach for several of the most expensive cheeses in the shop, three rings of sausage, and some dried wildflowers, all of which he placed in my basket. My face flushed at this gesture, and he saw my body stiffen.

“I do hope you will not be offended, as it is intended as a gift, and not charity.” While his words were soft, I could tell from his eyes that I was not to reject this offer. Smiling nervously, I turned away, my face scarlet, and said, “My thanks, my lord.” I pulled the hood of my cloak gently around my face and straightened my posture, heading resolutely towards the door. He allowed me to pass, still following me with that disquieting gaze, when I heard him call out,

“My lady, a moment.”

Nearly free of this awkward experience, I almost stamped my foot in annoyance. Turning back with a winning smile, I answered, “Yes, my lord?”

He crossed the room, his eyes devouring my face as he said, “I have not learned your name, and I will whether you tell me or not. I am Sir of Gisbourne, and Locksley. And you, my lady?”

“Nyssa…of the House of Wooln,” I answered swiftly. His brow furrowed in unfamiliarity, then smoothed over. As I turned to leave, his seductive baritone followed me with the words,

“You smell charmingly of lilies, my lady.”

 

When I arrived home I immediately set up supper and put the dried flowers onto the table for Father to enjoy as the end of his day approached. Mother had always found them in the forest and done this on special evenings, and we had rejoiced at the sight of them. Father soon came in, his arms tired from stretching and dying the wool in the vats, but looking pleased with himself as the work had speeded up since I had come home. He sat at the table while I began to serve our meal, then stopped suddenly as he saw the fresh cheeses and meats from the shop laid out, along with garden vegetables I had cooked. His eyes widened.

“Nyssa, where did you get this? I sent you to Lindson’s for bread and a bit of sliced meat, not French cheese and victuals! Tonight’s dinner will cost us for over a month!” His face became a dark cloud until I held out the five coins he had given me for payment. 

“Do not worry so,” I scolded him lightly. “The food is ours and you must eat it, Father or it certainly will cost us for over a month in labor production.”

“Nyssa...please tell me you didn’t steal.” His voice was now very concerned.

I sighed, not wanting to explain. “Father, there is not only this but three rings of sausage and more cheese in the storage room besides. I have done well today; I hoped you would be happy.” 

“And so I would if I only had known how,” Father said. I could hear that his patience was wearing thin, and I really didn’t want to tell him what had happened.

“Suppose...” I began, sitting down and holding his hand. “…that another citizen felt they should welcome us by providing us with this food.”

“Unless it was Lindson, I should be suspicious,” Father countered. “Was it another farmer, or gardener in trade? Dawson with his three acres or the dairy farmer close by?”

I sighed. “No Father.” Now I looked him in the face, my heart rate speeding up. “While I tried to be discreet, I happened to be in the shop at the same time as Sir Guy.”

“He saw you?” Father gasped. 

“Of course he saw me,” I snapped back. “And you should know I very well tried to leave before he did so, but it couldn’t be helped, and here we are with a store of food because of it.”

Now Father’s face truly darkened. “What did you give him, then?”

A snake of anger began to writhe below my heart, and I felt tears prick my vision. “Nothing,” I said hastily, swiping at my eyes. “Nothing. I gave him nothing, Father, but he would not let me leave until I accepted this food. As I showed you, he would not allow me to pay for it.”

“Of course he wouldn’t, you silly girl, because this means you now owe him a favor, and I wonder what he will expect it to be,” Father said, glowering. “I told you to wear your cloak in town and keep your hood up! And I told you to mind those around you; Sir Guy is dangerous! I shouldn’t have to tell you what form of payment he has extracted from my trading partners and their families! I wanted to save you from that!”

“Well as God as my witness, it could not be helped!” I cried, slamming my hands on the table. “I tried to leave the store before he saw me. I was prepared to leave with noting, but he blocked my path and refused to let me leave until he had paid for my purchases! I gave him a false name, Father! He doesn’t know where we live or anything of the sort!” Now my tears were flowing freely. “Would you rather I had defied him for a worse fate, and been sent to prison for it?”

“I would rather you had been born with some sense,” Father replied darkly, getting up from the table. “Sir Guy has crippled my colleagues, overtaxed me for years and never shown any pity to those in need. I will not eat the scraps of his bribe.” Turning from the table to go the bedroom, he tossed back at me, 

“I would rather eat his shit.”

Like a knife in my chest, the words found their mark, and I wept as I sat looking at the beautiful feast we were to enjoy. Still weeping, I wrapped up the remains of the food, and put the five coins from Father back into my purse for safekeeping. 

The worst of it was that I had known every part of Father’s diatribe was true, and I was already terrified of the consequence of today’s meeting. As I put on my chemise, I knew that Sir Guy had meant what he said about finding me out. Once he discovered that I had given a false name and was not a lady of the court, he would be furious and no doubt others would feel his wroth.


	3. Chapter 3

As I rounded the corner, already thinking of stories to tell to Elena that morning, a horrific sight greeted my eyes. Charmaine was physically struggling with one of the Sheriffs’s guards, while the other was bodily dragging Elena from the house. Before panic could take over, I quickly assessed the physical layout of the front yard. Charmaine had left one of her husband’s long pokers outside of the front door, and the guard’s horses appeared to be tied up in the yard behind the house. They had surprised the women while John was away, and Charmaine had no way to defend her daughter. I broke into a run, my flowers forgotten on the path as I heard her screaming,

“Not my daughter, please, do not take her! She is only five years old and unwise in the ways of hard labor!”

Taxes again, I thought. The Sewards couldn’t pay their occupancy tax for Elena, which is why they had tried to hide her, but had been found out. If taxes were unpaid, the property then was remanded to the Sheriff for service. I continued running past the guards, rounded the corner and grabbed the long poker. Swiftly I turned, and with all of my strength, ran headfirst into the guard holding Elena. He was taken completely by surprise and released her. She rolled a few feet away, and I stood in front of her, poker raised.

“You will not take this child!” I hissed menacingly. At first comically surprised, the guard then took on a look or annoyance.

“’Ere now, missy, get on out of ‘ere! This is Crown business. Put that down,” He hesitantly drew his sword. “Put it down and give me the girl.”

“Not for my life,” I said, hiding a sobbing Elena behind me. “Leave this house! This child belongs with her parents, not in hard labor for a late tax payment!”

A brief flicker of awareness crossed the guard’s eyes. “Look, I’m jus’ doin’ what the Sheriff has commanded. The girl has to come with us.” He advanced toward me, before he was slashed across one leg with the poker. I held Elena further back as he crumpled to the ground, groaning. All the while I kept an eye on the other guard. 

“I don’t want to hurt either of you, but you must leave. Give this family one more day ---“

The wind was knocked utterly out of me and I was hit from behind by what felt like a war destrier. The earth spun above me, and I involuntarily let go of Elena’s hand as I was knocked to the forest floor. My instinct to hold onto the poker remained, however. As I fell I realized that the guard had been distracting me while someone else had crept up behind me. This realization came in the blink of an eye, as my ankle twisted under me and I screamed out in pain.

“It’s no less than you deserve, you upstart slattern!”

That voice.

I felt his crushing weight on top of me, wrestling my arm behind me at such a painful angle I almost screamed again. I would be damned if I gave in to this treatment, and used the other arm to roughly angle a shot at him with the poker. A thrilling rush went through my body as I felt it make contact with his shoulder and a painful grunt followed. Then a scream rent the air as he pulled my arm even further back at an angle, ready to break it. I realized it was my own. His other arm seized my wrist. “Drop it!” he commanded, giving my arm a painful jerk. I angled the poker round and gave him another shot in the side, which was followed by a surprised cry, and then a bellow of anger. The next thing I was aware of was a crushing blow to the side of my head and multitudes of stars swimming into my vision. Panicked, I felt my limbs go limp, and was flung roughly away from my attacker. Groping blindly, I rolled over onto my side, my face damp with sweat, until I felt my hair being grabbed from behind. As my vision began to clear, the grip on hair suddenly lessened, and then released entirely as I looked up into the penetrating blue eyes of Sir Guy.

First a blue flame of rage, his eyes suddenly softened into shock, then confusion. Then frustration at himself and the situation exploded. “What are you doing here?” he demanded roughly.

As I lay on the ground panting, I retorted “Saving a family from the generosity of the Sheriff, Sir Guy!”

Taken aback, Sir Guy advanced on me. “And why should you care what happens to peasants?”

Sitting up, my head still spinning, I bawled, “Their daughter is in my keeping while the parents work to keep your Sheriff’s coffers full. I will not allow her to be taken without a fight!” I struggled to stand, but feeling faint of air, I merely settled back on my elbows as I glared at him. I could feel a bruise beginning to swell on my face from his blow, and my face was flushed from exertion and anger. Breathing with equal amounts of exertion, he snapped at me “Why is it any of your business to help these people? They are not of your like, though today I took you for a common harlot!”

“Then I will toast the next harlot I see,” I shot back. “And I care for these people because they were good as kin to my family. Their social standing is of no consequence to me!” Struggling up to my feet, head still spinning, I demanded,

“How much tax do they owe for Elena?” 

“Five crowns.” His eyes cut into mine in challenge. “And I’ll not leave without it or the girl.”

Still breathing heavily, I reached into my purse to find the five crowns I had saved from the Lindson’s the other day. I pulled them out contemptuously and threw them onto the ground at his feet. “There!” I exclaimed. “Ironically, Sir Guy, you saved me from paying these at the market, only to steal them from me later. The Sheriff is indeed generous.” 

Head still reeling, I turned to Elena to inspect her for abuse. She appeared shaken but well, and Charmaine, who had been also released and was thanking me profusely for this gesture, took her daughter in her arms. I arranged to meet her later in the day once they had settle matters with the guards over the tax. 

Wanting more than anything to be free of the whole scene, I began walking quickly away from the house and back towards the forest, where I planned to cut a path to my father’s house. But I had gone only a merely fifty yards when I heard the steady beat of a horse’s hooves behind me, and I knew it was Sir Guy’ s stallion by its gait. 

At this point, anything could happen. He could arrest me for assault on a nobleman. He could beat me to death, or take me by force…As I heard the hoof-beats slow to a walking pace, I realized I must play the next scene very carefully or it could mean death for my family. My anger, however, had begun to bubble up and get the better of me as of late. After moment of walking in silence with him following, I shot behind me,

“Eager for another round of beating defenseless women?”

I was surprised by his rich, hearty laugh, and his response. “I would hardly call you defenseless, my lady.” 

Refusing to turn around, I walked faster, quickening my pace almost to a jog, and was perturbed when I heard him click his horse into a faster pace as well, until the stallion was next to me. He glanced sidelong at me, a light smirk playing about his lips as if this was the most amusement he had experienced in ages. This infuriated me even more. “Then I assume you must want something, as I cannot outpace you on your horse.”

“Oh yes, my lady, I certainly do want something,” he replied unsettlingly. 

“And how may I then serve, my lord?” I asked, attempting to sound placating but only managing annoyance. Sir Guy’s eyes became intense suddenly as he said, “Ah, she asks. Stop walking for a moment.”

I stopped in mid-stride and turned to him. He reined his horse in and swung out of the saddle with a fluid movement, landing mere feet from me. As he neared, my heart’s pace quickened and both fear and a feeling elation flooded my body. He moved languidly for a man of such height, as if each muscle were honed for casual capture of any prey that took his fancy. As he approached, he slowly pulled off his black riding gloves and I was struck with realization that it was those graceful hands that had knocked me senseless a few minutes ago. I tensed, suddenly moving away as he came closer, and he paused, reflecting on my demeanor with those extraordinary eyes. Uncomfortably, I turned my head as I found myself backed against a stream.

“I’m not going to hurt you, my lady,” he murmured softly, still moving forward.

“Then what do you want?” I said, remembering my father’s warnings about Sir Guy.

“I want…” he began, then faltered, appearing perturbed. “I want to know what you were thinking when you took on two of the Sheriff’s guards for a routine matter of taxes.”

“I don’t find the abduction of a child for hard labor a routine matter, Sir Guy,” I replied carefully. “As I said, I am the girl’s keeper and godmother. Her family is practically kin to mine.”

“And how did you even think to fight them?” he asked, drawing a step nearer. “You could have been severely hurt, or killed.”

“Sir Guy, my only thoughts were for Elena. She is closest thing to a daughter I may have in my life.” Knowing this to be more information than I had intended to reveal, my gaze stuttered away from his.

He was now in front of me, his curiosity roused. “You are not promised, then?” he asked, his liquid voice very low at this point. Warmth began to course through my body, and I felt my face flush, still refusing to meet his gaze. 

“My lady?”

“No,” I managed to say. “No, I am not promised.”

“What a pity.”

I glanced back up nervously, and his eyes locked with mine, holding my gaze in a vise-like grip. Then a slow warmth spread across his face. “But not for me.” 

His hand lightly came to rest on my shoulder, the white flesh tingling as his own touched it. I trembled a bit, and he raised the hand to his lips in a quieting gesture. With this other hand, he reached out to touch my cheek, where a bruise had begun to bloom from his earlier blow. He caressed it, turning over the back of his hand to do so, as his other hand gently stroked my shoulder. Raw masculinity emanated from him like some exotic potion that held me in its power, and I could not move. Gently, he leaned towards me, his breath very close to my own, and slowly began to kiss the bruised cheek with the long, soft pressure of his lips. My breathing quickened but I was powerless to stop the anarchy of my body. As he continued to kiss my abused cheek, his chest rumbled deeply “My beautiful lady…you must be more careful in the future…” His hand fell down to clasp one of mine, and my breath caught as he touched me. All I could manage was, “Then, perhaps, you will…look before you strike next time, Sir Guy,” I whispered.

“Apparently I must,” he said, the deep tones of his voice richer than ever. With that same smooth grace, his lips began to travel from my bruised cheek towards my lips. “Especially…if a wicked little harlot is bearing the poker.”

His words stung me like blow, and I immediately stiffened, turning my face aside. My anger had saved me at last. “You called me a lady when I took your money and a harlot when I defended a family,” I spat at him. “I ask you, sir, which is the correct definition? Regardless, I shan’t forget your blows today, both your words and fists!” He took a step backwards, looking sincerely shocked at my reaction, and even more so when I turned abruptly and moved towards the walking path. 

“Forgive me. That was inappropriate,” he called after me. “My lady—“

“Oh, now I am a lady?” I whirled around and shouted at him. “You are as changeable as the moon, Sir Guy! No wonder none of the tradesmen trust you!” I smoothed my hair back from my flaming cheeks, still grossly embarrassed at my own loss of control. “And do not follow me! I will not suffer your presence for another moment!”

I heard a small thud at my feet as I was turning to leave, and saw my purse with the five crowns lying there. “You’d best take this, then,” he replied solemnly. “This was the reason for my pursuit, Lady Nyssa. The tax has been paid, and the girl will stay with her family. But I will never take your money.”

I stared at the purse, dumbfounded for a moment as he swung himself up onto his horse. Still furious, I tossed out, “As regards your earlier comment, I suppose this is payment for allowing you to take a moment’s advantage with me?”

“As regards my earlier comment, Lady Nyssa, it’s not your money that I want,” Sir Guy repeated, with a rueful but wry glance in my direction. He then paused. “Since we last met I discovered that there is no House of Wooln. You lied to me. But it matters not. I have said that I will find you, and find you I will. Good day.” He clicked his tongue and the horse immediately broke into a gallop, leaving me alone in the forest with my thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

My back aching from physical labor, I leaned against the stretching loom for a moment. A sunny day like this was so rare in England; even days without rain barely had this much light and warmth in early autumn. I breathed in the fresh scent of the drying wool and the late autumn rape flowers in the field of the farmer nearby. There would be fields and fields of them by next spring, but for now these violent yellow blooms were all that was left of a summer’s riches. I thought of the peace of recent weeks, since Father’s last tax payment, and his profitable season at the black market since I had come home. With my help, he had managed nearly twice the weaving and stretching of garments, capes and blankets than in the past, and his work was unsurpassed in its quality. I even managed a few private sales to homes of court ladies, whose servants I met in the market. Life had been good these past several days, if a bit lonely. Father was often gone at the market, so I had the house and back pasture to myself today.

In a moment of sheer sensual delight, I stripped off my bustier and overskirt so that I was left in my white chemise, and ran to the edge of the field, where I had planted my secret supply of lilies. Taking only one that was fresh, I ran back to the yard and drew a bucket of cold water, threw off my kerchief, and crumbled the lily into the water. Luxuriously, I draped my curtain of red curls into the water, and began to wash, glorying in the cool feel on my hot skin. If I allowed myself one luxury, it was my bittersweet lilies, which always reminded me of Mother.

Drying my hair on one of the woolen blankets nearby, I slowly got back up, deciding it was time to take down the finely woven cloaks that had been drying in the sun. They lay on the lines in a maze of color and fabric, and for a moment I again felt as a rich lady must, with all her possessions around her. I stepped lightly, almost danced to my favorite, a deep purple specimen with filigree sewn around the hood, and pulled it down, the fabric heavy and soft under my touch. Perhaps father would make one like this for me as a present…I absent-mindedly pulled it from the line, and then my heart leapt into my throat. As I did, I came face to face with Sir Guy of Gisbourne.

For a moment, I simply stood and stared. He regarded with his usual unsettling intensity, his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe into the pasture. I immediately wondered how long he had been watching me, as I had been quite unaware of anyone’s presence and had not heard the arrival of a horse. I also became painfully aware that I had cast off my outer garments and was only wearing my chemise, which must appear nearly translucent on this sunny a day. I swallowed, a click in my throat. There would be no way of talking my way out of this current situation, so I trembled a for a moment as we looked at one another. His eyes were angry as he finally spoke in a low tone.

“I told you that I would find you. You have a great deal of explaining to do.”

He unwound himself from the doorframe and slowly strode down the three steps into the pasture towards me. I had no response, and merely looked away from his blazing eyes. I folded the cloak in my arms to cover what I could of myself, but as Sir Guy approached he roughly took a corner of it, pulled it out of my hands and threw it aside in an angry, violent act. I moved backwards instinctively, avoiding his gaze.

“Look at me,” he commanded, and I dared not accede. He raised a gloved finger in an infuriated gesture and his voice and cadence became dangerously low. “You lied to me. I knew it the moment you opened your mouth the first day we met. I thought you a lady of class, and I find you here?” He was nearly shouting now, and had taken both of my shoulders in anger. Terrified, I tried to stay still and calm in the face of his anger. “The daughter of a tradesman, and I treated you with more respect than many ladies of court! You think you can make a fool of a man like me?”

“My lord,” I whispered, fearful but determined to speak, “I meant no offense. I am flattered that you have treated me with more respect than many court ladies. Yet you have called me both lady and harlot, to find that I am neither.”

“To find that you are a liar!” he burst out, shaking me suddenly. “You took me for a fool and that I am not, do you understand?” His pulse throbbed near his throat at an alarmingly fast pace. “I am a powerful man and I will punish anyone who makes a fool of me. Do you understand?” he barked in my face. I was nearly in tears, still in his vise-like grip, when I summoned courage from a place I did not know existed.

“Yes, my lord, you are a gentleman of the first class. You have beaten me and kissed me when you thought me a lady, and had no remorse for either, so why should this trouble you so? I am a mere tradesman’s daughter, completely in your power to do with as you wish.” I held his gaze strongly as I said these last words, and his look changed from anger to incredulity. Regaining self-control, he released me, and stepped back to straighten his clothing. He breathed heavily out and then glared at me.

“Yes I can do with you as I wish,” he said menacingly. “And you would do best to remember that, as would your father. He has been living with you, tax free and no doubt,” he said, looking at the wealth of clothing in the yard, “doing a fine business for it.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at me. “Tell him I expect your occupancy tax to be paid tomorrow when I send my guards.”

He then whirled to exit the pasture, but I quickly ran after him. “Sir Guy,” I said pleadingly. “do not trouble my father for this, I beg you. I will pay the tax myself.” As he looked at me incredulously, I removed the five crowns from the purse that he had returned to me weeks ago. I looked up at him with ice in my eyes and held them out. “For the Sheriff’s generosity.”

Sir Guy then closed his eyes and looked away from me. He seemed in an internal struggle, one he was unused to. I held out the five crowns to him, open in my hand. He made as if to take them, but then closed my hand over the coins with his own, and looked back at me. He drew me closer by my hand, his eyes blue sparks, as if he wished to speak. I felt my pulse quicken as he touched me, and his hands tightened over mine.

Without warning, he pulled me into a crushing embrace. His mouth descended on mine and ravaged my lips as he pulled my head closer to his. I felt dizzy as his rough kiss went on and on, and then his tongue was in my mouth, capturing all of my taste with the desperation of a starving man. My body responded vibrantly, my knees rapidly weak, my arms wrapping around his neck as he kissed me with a passion I had never known. I kissed him back, now my tongue equally daring, questing in his mouth, my hands tracing over his broad shoulders, entwining in his hair, stabs of desire impaling my entire body. 

“It was,” he said softly between devouring my mouth, “the lilies. I knew…it was you…” As he continued to kiss me, his hands moved from my head to my shoulders, boldly caressing the skin just below my chemise. His hips moved against mine and I felt his hardness against me, which both thrilled and frightened me. He pulled my waist to his and ground himself against me, and I knew that if I did not stop he would have me right there in the pasture, and I would have no complaint. I forced my rapid breathing back into a rhythm, and broke away, still gasping for air. 

“Sir Guy,” I said. “Stop.”

His eyes still smoldering, he regarded me with more tenderness than I had seen before. “I cannot make an apology for this.” He moved towards me again. “You stir me, Nyssa, unlike any other woman.”

I was at a loss of words for this, but I tried to speak. “Sir Guy—“

“Guy,” he said softly, moving in front of me and taking my hands. “I want you to use my Christian name, not my title.” His eyes, always so intense, had a gentleness I had never seen before.

“Sir...Guuy, then, " I said awkwardly, touched by this kindness. “I..do mean to be serious about paying our tax, though. I want no trouble for my father.”

“Nyssa,” he intoned in a whisper. “I have told you before. It is not your money I want.” His face was close to mine again, and he moved to kiss me once more, but the back door banged abruptly open and I heard Father's voice cheerfully call out, "Nyssa! Come see how much I sold today!"

Guy's face darkened, and unable to warn my father in time, I peered around the knight's broad shoulders as Father walked though the outside door into the pasture. He blanched upon seeing me in the arms of Sir Guy wearing only my shift, and immediately assumed the worst. I saw him pick up one of the rolls of the stretching loom, and saw Sir Guy turn and draw his sword in defense. In any other moment, this situation would have been comical; an old man trying to fend off a young one with what amounted to a large stick. "No, Father!" I cried out, stepping between them "Please let me explain."

Father's eyes went from furious to incredulous, then back to furious. "Nyssa," he said slowly, "What is going on here? Has he harmed you?"

"No, Father," I replied. "Please put that down." 

"Yes, put it down, Master Edan,” Sir Guy said harshly, preparing himself for a strong defensive move. "I don't want to hurt you."

“You are the one who should be afraid, you blackguard!” Father shouted.

“Oh, stop this ridiculous masculine posturing, both of you!” I said, and they both abruptly lowered their weapons in surprise. Each kept an eye on the other, however, as I began to speak.

“Father, I assisted the Sewards when I went to se Elena last week. I paid a tax collection for them…rudely.” I finished, my cheeks flushing. “Sir Guy was there and he forgave the tax payment.” I glared at him to leave the rest of the story out, if he knew what was good for him.

Father glanced at me, then Sir Guy suspiciously. “And why would he do something like that?” he asked.

“Master Edan, your daughter made me see these people as more than I had ever thought possible. She showed me that they were a family and close with yours, and that I should not break the family apart for a late payment.” He looked at me softly when he said this, and then continued. “And she fought like a lion to keep them together.”

Father looked vaguely worried and impressed at the same time. I could tell he as still mistrustful of Sir Guy, though. “And why did you allow her such grace; no arrest, no beating?”

“Because she touched me,” Sir Guy answered throatily. “She touched and warmed a place in my soul.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded by this confession. Dubiously, Father loosened his grip on the stretching roll. “Then why did you come here today?”

“To thank her,” Sir Guy said smoothly.

, is that true?” Father’s green eyes tracked mine as I looked away. “Not entirely, I see. So I am to believe that you Sir Guy, had a sudden enlightenment of consciousness, while I am to believe that my daughter took her own clothes off as I find her in your arms?”

We looked at one another and back to Father. The absurdity of the situation was obvious, but its absolute truth began to amuse me, and I bit back a smile. At the same time, I saw a grin threaten to break out on Guy’s face. “Actually, yes,” I responded.

Father continued to glare at both of us, but now dropped the stretching roll. “Well as I can see I will get no answers from either of you, I must accept this, please dress yourself and come inside. Sir Guy, a cup of mead?”

Guy sheathed his sword and nodded briefly in assent, moving through the doorway with one last glance at me. I quickly pulled on my overskirt and bustier and followed them into the house, grabbing cheese and bread from the shelves for a quick meal. Both of them regarded each other with wary respect as I prepared the meal, and slowly, they began speaking. Guy asked father about his trade, and Father told him a bit. I noticed that Guy had entirely ignored Father’s initial comment to me about having done well at the market, and when dinner was finished, he got up quickly. “I should leave, Master Edan, but I will be back.”

“I am sure you will,” Father said, his eyes holding Guy’s steady gaze. “Be careful that I do not misunderstand a situation such as this a second time, Sir Guy.”

“It will not happen,” Sir Guy assured him. I walked to the door to see him out and Father stayed close by as I stepped outside. I looked quizzically at our front gate for a moment before saying,

“You brought no horse?”   
“No, I wished to walk today,” he said quietly. His eyes found mine, the fervor of earlier returning to them. “Nyssa, I cannot do anything to hurt you. I will not tell the Sheriff of your father’s illegal sales.”

My own gaze dropped, feeling somewhat grateful and ashamed simultaneously. “Thanks you, S—“

“Guy,” he said softly, his hand rising to briefly caress my face.

“But now I am in your debt yet again,” I said.

His hand dropped gently as a wicked smile crossed his face “I know, my lady. And then: “It gives me great pleasure.”

Cleared-eyed, I said back to him, “I do not like being in debt, Sir Guy, and my debts are always paid back. And while I am in trade, I am not for sale myself.”

“Oh, fear not my lady. Someday I plan to collect,” he said with the same evil grin. He dropped his mouth to my ear, nose brushing my jawline as he said in a low voice, “When the time is right, I plan to collect your heart, your soul and your body. In the meantime, I suppose my interest on this loan shall be…the scent of lilies.” He softly kissed my cheek as he breathed in the scent of my hair. I shivered delightfully as he moved away from me and to the main road, back to his world of the Manor.


	5. Chapter 5

Over the next several weeks, I saw Sir Guy about the town, as I was no longer using my secret pathways to navigate the market and the homes of friends. When I did, he was always mounted on his enormous stallion, flanked by two guards (one of whom, I noted, still bored the marks of the poker I had used on his leg). And, when he saw me he slowed his horse as he passed me, sometimes cocking an eyebrow or flashing a brief, wicked smile, as though he were pleased to be sharing a secret. Despite myself, each time I blushed furiously and looked away, only to find him silently chuckling as he urged his horse into a trot to complete whatever business he was about. After these encounters, I was invariably unsettled, ashamed and excited all at once; feeling like my body would burst out of its skin after he had passed. 

His physical hold over me was very powerful, and I was quite ambivalent about it. While I had had my fair share of physical experiences in London, most of the men there had been delicate and genteel, not daring to insult or touch me without the proper social cues. They were not men as Sir Guy, who exuded eroticism quite his own, rough and sensual and unafraid of his own desires as well as mine. All of this thrilled and frightened me, because I never knew what to expect from him, or myself. Our mercurial exchanges, tempered with extreme physical attraction had left me exhausted and unsure of the future.

He had not called at the house since out last encounter, no doubt, to calm the worries of my father, who still regarded him with distrust. I was nearly as relieved as Father, until those moments when I would see him in the town and his penetrating eyes would bore into me, and I would hear his words echo in my head “…I plan to collect your heart, your soul and your body…” 

It was on just such an unsettling day as this that Father came home for lunch earlier than usual and began speaking to me of the future of our business. I only half heard him as he said,   
“I asked you about this a long time ago. Nyssa? Did you find a storage area in the woods?”

“Pardon?” I said, my thought entirely elsewhere. “Oh, no, I’m sorry Father, I never did.”

“Well, now that Sir Guy is aware of our store of clothing, it might be wise to do so,” he said. “He has been generous about it, but I would prefer not to be in his debt so obviously. Why don’t you take Gwynna and find a place with her?”

Gwynna was our grey mule, and one of my favorite animals. Stubborn and strong, she carried our goods anywhere we went, so I knew Father meant for this to be a rather large hiding place. It seemed prudent, however, to find such a place so I agreed, as long as I could first visit Charmaine and Elena, though I had just seen them yesterday.

I walked Gwynna down the town road towards Charmaine’s house at the edge of the wood. It was an unusually hot day, one of those that invades just before the bite of true autumn, and I wished for nothing more than a cool cup of water as I sweated and walked in full sunlight. The clothes and woolen goods had been wrapped in a package on Gwynna’s back, and she also breathed loudly and uncomfortably as we walked, snorting occasionally to let me know of her displeasure. I rubbed her neck as we walked, trying to keep her pace up so that she would not be tempted to stop and crop the nearby grass, never to move again. As we neared the cooler part of the road, and the Charmaine’s house, I heard swift hoof beats coming in the opposite direction, and abruptly pulled Gwynna to one side of the road. As he had been on my mind all the day, it was no surprise to see Sir Guy round the corner of the road at breakneck speed, his big chestnut stallion nearly foaming at the mouth from the heat. Upon seeing, me, he slowed down, and gradually stopped in front of Gwynna and I, his stallion prancing in front of us in what almost appeared to be flirtation. 

I was irritated, despite myself, as he had nearly run us down. “Can you ever make an entrance that isn’t so dramatic?” I snapped.

Amused, he glanced down at me while his stallion strode back and forth. “Blame Aomir. He becomes wild when the weather is this hot, so I have to ride it out of him. Otherwise he tries to mount the nearest mare available,” he replied, raising and eyebrow at me.

I glared at the panting stallion. “He looks like he’s about to collapse as it is,” I said. “I think the mares are safe.” My eyes travelled up Sir Guy’s long legs, encased in black leather to his hips, which jutted forward in the saddle. He was without his usual doublet today because of the heat and wore a loose fitting black shirt in its place. 

He caught me staring and smirked. “Shows what you know about males,” he said. His eyes flashed to the pack on Gwynna’s back. “Where are you going with that?”

“Oh, to make deliveries for Father,” I said lightly. Aomir neighed as if he were laughing.

“I see,” Sir Guy replied. Sweat gathered on his brow as Aomir paced impatiently, and a stream of it slid down the side of his face, and the length of his neck. I couldn’t stop looking at his jawline, where a pulse beat quickly. “Assuming I can keep Aomir under control, would you like an escort?”

It was a fair question, as many were robbed on their way to markets, but I had no need of his company today, especially looking as rugged and rough as he did. 

“No, no, I am visiting a friend first,” I said. “Be on your way, Sir Guy, before Aomir goes after my Gwynna. He might be desperate enough for a mule, you know,” I added darkly.

As I looked up, I noticed he appeared vaguely hurt. “I wish you would call me Guy, Nyssa,” he said, his voice caressing my name. “And no female is ever safe from a determined male.” He clicked Aomir into a trot and headed off without another word.

As he left, I breathed a sigh of relief, and urged Gwynna forward towards Charmaine’s house and into the cool cover of the forest. The temperature dropped a few degrees as we entered it, and I heard a volley of excited barks as Charmaine’s house came into view. Gwynna’s eyes widened and she began to pull at the reins, just as a beautiful chestnut Boxer dog bounded out of the house and boo-wooed his way to the fence. Charmaine appeared shortly after. “Quiet, Simon,” she snapped, and dog whined but did as she asked. Elena tumbled out the house a moment later. “Nyssa!” she cried happily, making for the gate.

“Wait, Elena, you’ll let Simon out!” Charmaine said anxiously, looping a rope round the dog’s neck. Simon panted happily and whined again, as Gwynna attempted to back up. I tied her to the post by Charmaine’s house to crop grass, and went to the gate to hug Elena.

“Oh, my darling, you’ve gotten so big!” I said, lifting her into my arms. She giggled. “You just saw me yesterday!”  
“And you’ve already gotten bigger,” I said. “Soon you’ll be a grown up woman.” I glanced at Charmaine. “I didn’t know you’d gotten a dog,” I said casually. “Any trouble?”

“Well, he found us, really,” Charmaine said. But I knew better. She could never resist a stray. “Elena and he are inseparable now so we have another mouth to feed.” But her eyes sparkled happily as Elena went back to Simon and patted his head. The dog licked her hand and playfully punched her in the side, nearly knocking her over, and then play bowed. “Simon!” Charmaine said sharply and Simon sat obediently. She then scratched his ears. “If only he weren’t so strong. He spills her on the floor on a regular basis, but I can’t keep them apart.”

“And he must be nice to have for other reasons as well,” I said tactfully. While Elena petted her dog, I said quietly, “Have you had more trouble with Sir Guy and the Sheriff?”

Here Charmaine’s face changed. “No. In fact, since the day you gave him a good telling off, he has come by, but not for taxes. The last time I saw him, he said that we were actually overpaid for our tax, and that instead of money, he would take any goods we were selling for the market that were left over.” 

My face must have registered absolute incredulity, because Charmaine looked worried. “I had thought maybe you had something to do with it,” she said carefully. “You didn’t know?”

“No,” I said. “I must say I’m shocked, Charmaine, and I can’t believe it ---“

“Perhaps he’s found religion,” she giggled. “Although, a man like that, I’m not sure. He seems more a hedonist than an ascetic. And he was so cruel before.”

“Yes,” I said, a click in my throat as I swallowed. “I don’t suppose you have some water?”

Charmaine happily obliged, and she, Elena and Simon all invited me into the house for a late lunch. I was more than exhausted from the heat, the news and my exchange with Guy earlier, so time among feminine and canine company was dearly needed and sorely missed. We spent the afternoon chatting, playing with Elena and Simon and trying to keep cool in the wretched heat of the day. Finally, I asked Charmaine:

“My mother once spoke of a wooded area with a deep pond, where she sometimes stored our goods. Do you know of such a place?”

Charmaine’s brow furrowed. “I think you mean the site of the old mill,” she said. “It since decayed, but a little of the building remains, enough to hide goods.” She brightened. “Still keeping the black market in business?”

“Yes and Father doesn’t want Sir Guy poking about,” I said. “He has done so enough already---“ I cut myself off quickly, but Charmaine’s eyes widened.

“Really?” she asked with a small grin. “He came by your house, but not to collect taxes?”

“Well, yes,” I said awkwardly. “He thought I was a lady of the court because of Father’s beautiful garments, and then discovered me at home.” Again, not the entire truth, but close enough.

Charmaine’s grin twisted into something mischievous. “Sir Guy? Have you got an admirer, Nyssa? Apparently all you have to do is beat men with pokers and they fall in love with you.”

“I wish I could say what it is that I’ve got,” I said wearily. “He stirs me and troubles me at the same time.”

“I can see why,” Charmaine replied. “Has he tried to...you know.”

“I stopped it,” I said shortly.

She looked at me seriously. “Be careful, Nyssa. He strikes me as a man who takes what he wants.”

I nodded. “I agree. Yet he has not done so--- on more than one occasion.”

Delightfully scandalized, Charmaine squealed. “What happened?”

“Well, I said ruefully, “the first time we met in Lindson’s, he cornered me and paid for my food. The next time, well…you saw.”

“He beat you up,” Charmaine said shortly.

“And then tried to kiss me later,” I added. Her eyes widened again. “And the last time, he did kiss me. I’m sure it would have gone further but I stopped it and…Father came home,” I finished lamely.

Charmaine’ eyes, while animated, were also troubled. “He is quite a beast of a man, Nyssa, but do be careful. You are playing with fire. He is a very powerful man and could really do you harm if he wanted.” She took my hand gently. “Though at least now I know why he has been so kind to us. Perhaps he does have a soul after all, or perhaps you reminded him with that blow to the shoulder.” The last was said with a laugh.

“I’m unsure about anything as regards Sir Guy,” I said. “But thank you for your advice, and I will visit the mill pond today.”

“Take Simon with you,” she said, stroking the head of the ever-present dog. “You never know who is in the woods.”

I looked at the dog, who was delighted to be the subject of conversation, and hurriedly tried to put his paws in my lap. “Darling Charmaine, thank you, but he looks a bit too tame for a guard.” She smiled. “Oh well, if you must. I’ll tell you the way.”


	6. Chapter 6

The old mill was found by a rocky path close to an overhanging cliff, the path going straight up. On a hot day like this it was torturous, but I encouraged Gwynna and myself that we might not have to make the journey often. Father had given me his most valuable and important pieces to hide from the eyes of the law, so they might keep here for a while. As Gwynna and I cleared the crest of the cliff, both of us panting, I heard a twig snap behind me and turned.

No one was on the path directly behind me, but because it curved it was difficult to see further. A cold sweat broke out on my brow, and hastily I drew the short dagger I kept in Gwynna’s saddlebag. I became very still, trying to listen for any sound in the humid air, and thought I heard another step, closer by.

“Show yourself!” I said loudly, looking around, but there were no more noises and no response. I looked ahead of and behind me, only finding a disturbing quiet, and so cautiously continued to the crest of the hill, where I saw what Charmaine had described.

The old run down remains of a rested in the corner of a beautiful clearing surrounded by trees…and wild lilies. My breath caught, as I suddenly felt certain that Mother must have known of this place. Perhaps she had even stored goods here, which made me want to come back again, just to be in a place that she had been. I herded Gwynna over to a tall tree near the pool, where I tied her up to crop grass and drink. I then went other old mill building, crept up the side door and was utterly stunned. 

It was old and broken down, but a shelter for clothing and goods such as ours remained intact to keep them dry and mold free. No doubt this had been the work of my mother, I was certain now. She had dressed the site with ----- to keep moths and other pests out, and had left one of her woven signatures in the cloth above the shelter. My mother had known of this place, had constructed this storage cave, had come here herself. 

Tears pricked my vision. Why could I not have known her? To not have known her or helped her in this task, before scarlet fever had stolen her from us. I loved her so much in that moment my heart ached. And now I knew where she had gotten my lilies.

I exited the mill to see a short waterfall cascading into the pool, and beneath it grew my lilies in their splendor and strength. This was a perfect location as they were well watered and given enough sun but not too much. Their fragrance seemed to fill up the whole grove and once again my heart caught in my chest, thinking of Mother, who was always blurry in my vision and memory.

I unstrapped the goods from Gwynna’s back, who was only too glad to be rid of them, and dragged them to the shelter in the mill. My task done, I wanted now to stay in this place for a while longer, for it was cool and peaceful, filled with my mother’s presence. The waterfall fell as if from off a shelf, and circulated in the pool, which kept the water fairly clean. On a day such as this, it looked downright inviting, and I longed to immerse myself in the cool waters. I wasn’t sure how deep the pool was, but I was strong swimmer from a small girl, so I was willing to find out.

Looking about the grove and listening carefully for more intrusive sounds, I heard and saw nothing. I waited a few more moments, then went to the area just underneath the waterfall to change. I stripped off my laced dress and chemise, folded them neatly and grabbed an old woolen blanket from Gwynna’s pack to wrap about myself. Wearing only this, I walked to the pool, slid off the blanket, and dipped my toe in. The water felt icy because it was such a hot day, but I had grown accustomed to cooler waters from my youth. I slipped into the pond, luxuriating in the refreshing feeling of the clean water on my hot skin. I threw my head back and went all the way under, my hair a red curtain beneath the water, then surfaced, wiping water from my face.  
And abruptly froze.

There was a man standing there, and he had not been there when I went under the water. As my eyes focused, my heart began pounding as I saw that he held a knife and a long staff, and was advancing on me in the pool. H was crudely dressed and his face bore the scars of many battles.   
A thief, just as Charmaine had warned me. 

“Get out of there,” he said coarsely. I swallowed. 

“What do you want? I don’t have any money.”

“Then I’ll take what you do have,” he replied. “I saw you with a pack of goods. Where are they?”

I paused, trying to buy time. “I dropped them off already.”

“Little lying bitch,” he snarled. “I been following ya for half an hour. You’ll be missing a tit if you don’t tell me!”

Now I was really frightened. “In the mill,” I said shakily. “The mill remains has a place.”

“That’s better,” he said, now walking past me towards the mill. “You behave and I might let you live when I’m done with you.” I watched him come close to the entrance of the mill, when my hearing picked up the sound of horse, and I knew whose it was immediately. In another flash or a second, Aomir came charging around the corner of the path, with Guy riding him like the devil himself. His eyes were full of deadly fury as he rushed at the man.

“Drop your weapons!” he shouted, drawing his sword. He reined the big stallion in, but Aomir could barely be held back.

The man’s eyes widened. “”Ere, now, just a domestic dispute,” he said. “The little lady and I are partners----“

“The hell you are!” Guy spat back. “Get out of here or I’ll have your head!”

The thief feinted to the left, and Aomir followed, but Guy was too quick. He redirected the horse; the thief made for Aomir with the wooden staff and caught him on the shoulder. But the stallion was a warhorse and barely noticed the blow; the thief then made as if to knife Aomir with his dagger. Guy smoothly moved the horse out of the way, reached out and delivered a crushing blow to the thief’s head. The fight abruptly knocked out of him, the man dropped his staff, and with one swift move, Guy caught the man with his sword right under the throat.   
“I said, get out of here!” His northern accent thick, he growled. “If I ever see you in these woods again, I’ll kill you.” The man appeared to assent, and Guy dropped his guard for a moment, forgetting the knife, but I had not. As he turned Aomir, I saw the thief rise with the dagger in hand, aiming for Guy’s side. I drew breath to call out, but to my shock, Guy had already anticipated it. His sword flashed through the air, and the man’s hand, still holding the dagger, dropped onto the forest floor as he began screaming.  
“Get out before I take the other thieving hand and every limb you have!” Guy snarled. The man, still screaming, decided to take this advice seriously and fled the clearing with great haste. I remained in the pool, staring at the scene in shock, and completely speechless. Guy hurriedly dismounted and tied Aomir to a nearby tree. “My lady,” he said, rushing over to the pool, “are you all right?” His eyes, still afire from battle, grew softer as he approached the bank of the pool.

I looked up at him, overwhelmed from nearly being robbed and possibly raped, and witness to a violent fight. Hating myself, I began to cry.

“Oh, dearest Nyssa,” he said, kneeling down on the bank to touch my face. “It’s all right. That bastard won’t be back.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, not sure what I was apologizing. “I didn’t see him on the path, and I watched, and then he found me here.”

“He must have followed you for a while,” Guy said. “Bandits like that are very hard to spot until it’s too late. Oh, my sweet lady,” he murmured into my wet hair. I instinctively crossed my arm over my body to hide myself from him, though I clung to his hand desperately as I wept. “That’s good, just get it out. You’re safe now,” he said. I felt him lightly kiss my head, and thought I must look a sorry sight. He was warm and smelled of the horse, and the pungent odor of male sweat. 

“Wait here just a moment,” he said suddenly, and moved away from me. I assumed he may have gone to get my clothes, but when he returned, he had one of the lilies from under the waterfall, and quickly gave it to me. “Take this,” he said softly. “I know how much you love them.” I was so surprised and moved by this kind gesture that I nearly started crying again, but instead I gripped his hand tightly and whispered, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he replied gently. He smiled at me, one of the first of his genuine smiles I had ever seen, and his eyes became soft. “You little wet thing,” he said, caressing my damp hair. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I wish I’d had the poker,” I said, shakily laughing. Guy laughed heartily. “I would have given that blackguard a good beating.”

“Well, you certainly gave me one,” he said, still smiling. He caressed my face comfortingly. “My little lioness.”

A bit calmer now, I asked, “Would you be kind enough to give me my clothes?”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Guy said, his voice tender but dangerous at the same time. “This is quite a delicious sight, Nyssa.”

My heart began pounding. He stepped back from me, straightening, and holding his rakish gaze, slowly began to loosen the neck of his shirt before pulling it off. Left only in his leather breeches, he stood before me as I stared. His body was absolutely beautiful; a flat, beautifully curved abdomen with muscles that cut deeply into his biceps and forearms. There was a light bruise on his left side, where I had gotten him with the poker, but I could not take my eyes away from his beauty and masculinity.  
And then, as he continued to lock his gaze with mine, he slowly began to unbutton his breeches. He did it both sensually and methodically, his eyes boring into mine as my face flushed scarlet. I had seen nude men before, but not like this, so bold and unashamed of sexuality. He slowly lowered his breeches, watching my face as he did so to reveal himself to me, arrogant and beautiful. He was so beautiful my breath caught in my throat. I tried to tear my gaze away from his gorgeous legs, his proud manhood, and striking face, but I could not. As he dropped his last item of clothing, still holding my gaze, he murmured sensually,

“Now we’re even.”


	7. Chapter 7

His eyes still locked with mine, Guy prowled to the other edge of the pool, and I let out a small yelp as he moved to enter the water on the other bank. "Wait, please!" I squeaked. "This is…too much. I need my clothes!"  
"I never said I wouldn't give them to you," he replied, slipped smoothly into the water and moving towards me, "Just. Not. Right. Now.…" He closed his eyes and threw his head back so that his raven dark hair was soaked in the pool, then tipped it forward again, rivulets falling across his forehead and down his broad chest. "Oh, this is lovely on such a day!" he said in a rush. He shook his head briefly, almost doglike, and then stood, waist deep in the water. I couldn't stop staring or tear my eyes away from his body, no matter how I tried. Every move he made was a poem, his long limbs stunning and powerful as the water ran down his shoulders and ribcage. My eyes went to the long yellow bruise on his side and shoulder, and winced. I did that, I thought. He noticed me looking at the bruises and said, slightly amused,  
"Yes, Nyssa, I bear the marks of your love on my body."  
"As I bear yours," I shot back, rubbing my cheek, which still had a bit of yellow on it as well.  
"Ah yes," he said, drawing still closer to me in the pool, "but I remember kissing yours. I don't remember you kissing mine." He raised an eyebrow as he moved nearly in front of me, devastatingly handsome, and reached out to touch my wet cheek. "Shall I remind you what that was like?"  
"Was that before or after you called me a harlot?" I said weakly, attempting to draw away.  
"Shhh," he answered, stopping my response with his fingers over my lips. Then he caressed my cheek again as he drew me in for a long, slow kiss. "I was a fool. This is what I ought to have done that day."  
He began softly at first, almost nibbling at my mouth, then taking my full lower lip and pulling it slowly through his. My pulse quickened as his tongue began slowly exploring my mouth, gently probing and questing. I responded as I had at the house, caressing his lips with my own and opening my mouth to him. He gathered me close to him, his hands pressing my head closer as the kiss deepened. Despite the cool water, I felt flashes of heat all over my body, especially as his hands traveled down to my shoulders and drew me against his chest. I felt my breasts press against him, and a stab of shame and exhilaration shot through me. His lips traveled lazily to my jawline and then my neck, biting the soft flesh there, his nose grazing my skin and raising gooseflesh. I could not help but respond, and my hands shyly caressed his lovely shoulders, when I suddenly felt this hardness against me, and stiffened from shock.  
"It' all right, it's all right, love," he said, still kissing my neck, but some kind of panic had arisen and overcome my desire. I pushed against his chest and moved back and away from him until my back was against the bank again. Concern filled his eyes as he looked at me.  
"What's wrong? Do I frighten you, love?" he asked.  
"Yes," I said, feeling every inch a coward. "You always have."  
Guy's face changed then, and his usual intensity relaxed a bit. "I don't want you be frightened of me, Nyssa. I only want to win you." He moved a bit closer to me then, but only to take my hand.  
"Do you really mean that?" I said. "Not just to have me, but to win me, to be with me?"  
"Of course I mean it, dear one," he said sincerely, all of his posturing gone. He put my hand between both of his. "This is not a dalliance for me. If I was only attracted to you, it would have been easy to dismiss, but it's far deeper than that. You are lovely, but your heart is the most beautiful part of you."  
No man had ever spoken to me like this before, so sincerely with such meaning. I felt at once fiercely relieved and deeply disturbed. He continued his tender look, and gently kissed my hand, before he looked at me more seriously. "I do not say this lightly or to many. You have my heart, Nyssa. I love you."  
My breath caught in my throat as I closed my eyes. He had said it. He had said what I felt to be true, but feared to be false. And he was not lying. I could see it in every fiber of his being. His love was real.  
I looked back at him, my heart feeling like it would burst. "You have had my heart from the first day, Guy."  
He smiled then, and drew me close to him. "My darling love," he said kindly, kissing the top of my head. I trembled, both from the cool water and from my admission, which I had not intended to make. His confession was disarming and gave him a luxurious new layer in my mind. As he held me, warmth emanating from his skin, I breathed what felt like the first sigh of relief since he had entered my life. He loved me. I was not merely a loan, or a tax collection.  
He noticed I was trembling and held me closer. "Darling, I think I will bring you your clothes now," he said gently. Kissing my cheek briefly, he exited the pool, which again commanded my attention, and then brought the woolen blanket to me. He tenderly wrapped it round my shoulders as I stepped onto the bank, casting his eyes down like a gentleman. This soft side of him, which I had not seen until now, was as intensely attractive as his roughish behavior, and I wondered how two such dichotomies could be found in the same man. But, I reminded myself, he had found them in me as well.  
I went behind the waterfall to change into my dress, wishing I had worn something prettier now that Guy was here. But the lace up bodice was beautifully made and the embroidery on the hem of the skirt suited me. I emerged to see Guy also fully clothed again and was a bit dismayed. He looked me over approvingly, and then sat down next to me underneath the waterfall. I took his hand and kissed it, and his eyes lit up with the dangerous fire I was so used to seeing.  
"I want to ask you about something," I said.  
"Anything," he replied.  
"The Sewards. Did you do that for me?"  
Guy looked downward half heartedly, then answered. "Yes."  
I continued to hold his hand. "Do you know how many families there are that are just like the Sewards, Guy?"  
"Many, I imagine," he replied, still avoiding my gaze. "But the Sewards are special to you."  
"All families in need are special to me," I said simply. " Can you show mercy to any others?"  
He looked up at me now, his eyes a storm. "Are you trying to use me, Nyssa?" I saw a deep hurt, and a dark cloud in his face.  
"I would never want you to feel used," I said carefully. "But, Guy, can you not show mercy to more than one family? Does the Sheriff need so very much?"  
"His need is insatiable," he replied bitterly. "My guards took the finger of one tradesman on his orders. I would not have allowed it, had I been there."  
"Delaram?" I asked quickly. "It was Delaram, wasn't it?"  
"I did not know the man's name, but I'm sure you are right," he said solemnly. "Subsequently, my reputation as thoroughly established. No one was late with taxes after that." He held my hand tightly. "But that is not all that I am, Nyssa," he said earnestly, glancing back at me with those remarkable blue eyes. "I wish to be more than the Sheriff's enforcer."  
"You are already so much more than that," I said. I reached up to caress his gorgeous face. "You will always be more than that. You are a knight, who understands honor, thought you like others to believe you do not."  
Humor invaded his serious expression. "Call it our secret, my lady," he said. I playfully slapped at his hand and, he outright laughed. "You hide your humor well, Sir Guy, and you should not," I said. "As well as your gentleness."  
"Oh, my gentleness has limits," he said, his eyes alighting on my face. "It is limited to certain redheaded ladies with sharp wits."  
"And …perhaps to more families in need?" I asked gently. He frowned in response. "Will you think on it, at least?"  
"Aye," he said mischievously, grinning at me. "But much depends on your gentleness to me. It seems to put me in a better mood." His large hands reached out to caress my face once more, and drew me close to him. I closed my eyes, feeling safe against his warmth, and sighed. I heard him chuckle. "Was that the sound of happiness?" he asked, his chest a charming rumble against my face.  
"Yes," I replied. I sat up, looking up at him. "Can I ask what you did with the goods the Sewards gave you instead of tax money? Is there some similar arrangement that could be used for others?"  
He looked away from me suddenly and I could tell this was a hard subject for him. I put my hand on his cheek. "Please don't be ashamed of your kindness, Guy. My mother used to say that kindness is never weak."  
"Your mother didn't work for the Sheriff, then," he said absently. Then his face hardened. "I hate the man."  
"I'm sorry if I'm not supposed to ask, but why? What does he make you do?"  
"He's a greedy, cruel bastard. And he takes any opportunity to make those beneath him feel small and unaccomplished." The last was something I knew had been done to him.  
"Can you leave? Do you have to hold your oath of fealty to him?"  
"Unless I make another oath to a very powerful officer of the law or noble, yes." His eyes traveled back to my face. "And I hate myself for it. I was young when I swore to him, and my family needed that connection. We had nothing else. I still need the connection, because by law all of my lands belong to him and could be taken at any moment. And he needs me, because I am a strong fighter and the men will follow me in battle. They respect me, and my family name, though they might not if they knew more."  
This was where his self-loathing came from; now I finally knew the source. I took his beautifully large hand in mine and kissed it. "But you are well placed and can make a difference even where you are," I said.  
"Not really," he answered. "I have to do as he says."  
I shrugged. "Yet you went against his laws with the Sewards. Even if he doesn't know, you still defied him. And you haven't told me what you did with the goods."  
"Some of them, I took to the next town over to sell," he said, "and the others, I give to the Church." Again, he winced as if revealing a wound. "Do not laugh, Nyssa."  
My heart overflowed with warmth for him. "Why should I laugh?" I said, holding his hand more tightly. "You showed mercy, Guy. I could see that mercy in your eyes, beneath the hardness. If anything, I -" I cut myself off, and leaned up his long frame, reaching to draw his face down to mine. I pulled him into my embrace and began kissing him passionately, unable to help myself.  
His shock at my reaction was charming, but soon turned to passionate ardor as I kept kissing him. His tongue boldly claimed my mouth, and almost bit at my lips, while his large, warm hands held both sides of my face, his fingers gradually trailing down my neck. I couldn't stop wanting him, wanting his closeness, and he felt it. My hands tangled in his dark hair to pull him closer, and then I felt his hand move to the curve of my back, repositioning me without breaking the kiss. He pulled me to the length of him, and then lay me down on the soft earth beneath the waterfall. His mouth had travelled from my lips to my neck, gently licking and biting the soft flesh, making my breath quicken and a moan escape my lips. He shifted his weight so that he now lay partly on top of me, unable to move away for the barest second. When I felt his weight on me, another wanton moan escaped my lips, and I felt my legs part a bit. My body knew this dance, even if I had forgotten it.  
"Oh yes, my lady. That's the sound I've wanted to hear," he said huskily. His kisses had traveled from my gasping mouth, down my neck, to the lacings of my bodice, which I now wanted open. My nipples were hard underneath my dress and I wanted to free them, for him to suckle them, touch them, and make me cry out. Groaning, I puled at the laces of my dress, trying to kiss him at the same time, but I felt him push my hands away, pinning them to my sides. Intently, he stopped all activity, and gently moved himself between my legs. Though we were both still fully clothed, I could feel his throbbing heat and hardness, and gasped in pleasure. He gave me another one of his wicked smiles, cocking his head to one side as he said,  
"Do you feel this, my lady? Do you feel my want for you, my love for you?" He moved against me, pulling my leg against his hip, lowering the hard pressure against my aching want, and I moaned in pleasure. "Yes," I whispered. "Please..."  
"Please what?" he said, teasingly, pressing himself against me just a touch more, and lazily tracing the outline of my breast. I was unable to form words and continued breathing heavily until his breath tickled the shell of my ear "Please, what?" he said again, his hand stopping at the laces of my bodice.  
"Please…stop talking," I whispered, trying to reach his mouth with mine. He kissed me hard then, his hands stroking my breasts, feeling the sharp rise of my nipples, making me gasp with pleasure. I pulled at his shirt then, wanting to feel his warm skin against my own, his hard shoulders under my hands. He pulled back ever so slightly, tsking at me, "Ah, ah, in time," before his hands delicately unwound the laces of my bodice. Those deep eyes bore into me, and he pulled my bodice down just enough, running his tongue along the tops of my breasts. "Lovely," he said, gazing down at me.  
I felt myself wriggle against him seeking some release, bug he would give me none. "Is this what you want?" he asked softly, licking the tops of my breasts. "Hmm? Tell me, is this what you want?"  
I wanted everything. I wanted his voice, his eyes, his lips, his manhood, all of it. But I couldn't speak. Instead I pulled his head closer to my breasts, and he took a bit of pity on me by opening my bodice all of the way this time. His warm hand invaded the space, kneading my left breast, teasing the nipple, while his lips suckled my right, and I nearly screamed with pleasure. My hands pulled him closer, wrapping in the fabric of his shirt, trying to drag it off of him, but he moved my arm away in a practiced move, held it down, and continued his assault on my upper body. I was close to hyperventilating at this point, and was moaning his name as he kissed, suckled and kneaded my aching breasts. Just when I thought I could take no more, he jutted his hips against mine, and I cried out, a torrent of pleasure ripping through my body. I spasmed against him, and felt him groan, his own needs unreleased. With my free hand, I pulled his weight against mine, trying to make him move against me, but he abruptly stopped, and gripped my other hand in a vise.  
"I'm not done with you yet, lady," he half growled at me. I felt his hands moving my dress up, and slight wave of fear arose in my throat. Forgetting myself, I sat up and suddenly said, "Guy, I will carry your child-"  
His eyes danced at me, looking amused, and I realized that he had another plan all along. "Nyssa, I have no intention of impregnating you unless we are wed. I can still give you pleasure, though." Those blue orbs became sinful again as he slid himself lower on my body, gently encouraging my legs to part.  
I was nervous. I had never done this before. What did he want? I thought I knew, but couldn't imagine a man wanting to do that to a woman. My thoughts were broken as he commanded, "Part your legs, my love," and slid his hand up my thigh to my womanhood. Still tense, I heard him say "Open yourself to me, Nyssa. Don't forget that I love you."  
Relaxing a little bit, I felt his finger gently moving against my pleasure center, drawing swirls, feather light, then pressing more urgently. I gasped again, my hips moving against his hand, and felt him slide one finger, then two into me gently, questing, probing. I began to move with him, my body following the ancient rhythm of lovemaking, and just as I thought I would arrive again, I felt him move his hands away. I nearly groaned in frustration, but then felt his stubble chafe my thigh and nearly jumped out of my skin. That? He wanted to do that to me? "Oh, God!" I cried out as he began his second assault on my body. His tongue flicked out, entered me, flicked out, entered, and again. I felt this nose press deliberately against my pleasure center each time, and I suddenly knew that this time would be no match for any previous lovers or experiences.  
His rhythm became faster, more urgent. Oh, his tongue.  
Faster. My body gathered, like violin string ready to snap.  
A low cry began in the back of my throat that ended in a high pitched squeal as he finished with me. I cried his name over and over, and that I loved him and that I knew I always had. As it ended, I felt him leave my womanhood, and lay, utterly spent, my heart beating rapidly, until he moved to lie next to me, also breathing rapidly, his lips red, his eyes full of passion.  
"Christ's bones, Nyssa. You shatter me."


	8. Chapter 8

We lay like that for quite some time, him stroking my hair as both of our high emotions cooled off. It would be dark soon, and I knew Father would worry if I was not back. I brushed Guy’s hair away from his beautiful blue eyes and smiled. “I must go,” I said gently.

He sat up and looked at me longingly. “Come back to Gisbourne Manor with me,” he said taking my hand. 

“I won’t and you know it,” I said. Of course, my body had fully agreed on the spot that I should go with him. “I cannot leave Father’s house until I am wed. And I will be no man’s mistress.”

He frowned, slightly annoyed. “Well, this is certainly the most awkward marriage proposal I’ve ever heard. Or is it bribery?”

“You tell me, you’re the expert,” I said, stifling a giggle. Guy’s lips twisted in an attempt to hide a smile, but he continued to frown. “You drive a hard bargain, little lioness,” he said, lightly tapping my nose. “I have already confessed my love to you. Isn’t that enough?”

“Perhaps it is, for many,” I said. “But not for me. I will be an honest, respected woman with a fair trade, and no one will take those things from me.”

He propped himself on an elbow, regarding me quizzically. “What if they did?” he asked quietly. “What would you be then?”

“I would still be Nyssa,” I said. “And I would still have, as you put it, my beautiful heart.”

His eyes narrowed. “And if someone took that too?”

“I won’t let it be taken,” I said firmly. “They’d have to kill me to me make me an ugly person.”

He considered this, stretching into a sitting position, his long legs slung over one of mine. “Well, I suppose you win all around then.” He looked about the grove. “Why were you here taking a bath, anyway?”

I paused. Had he overheard my conversation with the thief? I hoped not. “Charmaine told me that my mother used to come to this place. It’s where she found my lilies,” I said shyly. His face softened a bit from its usual serious demeanor. “That’s the story behind the lilies, why you cherish them so.” He stroked my hand with his thumb. “Did she die very young?”

“Scarlet fever. When I was three, so I don’t remember a lot of her but the scent of those flowers. They always smell like her to me.” I thought of her signed parchment in the mill, and wished I could tell Guy, but something stopped me. I looked up at him. “I have to go.”

“Fine,” he said gruffly. “But I was will escort you back to your house. After all,” he grinned. “you don’t have the poker with you today.”

I assented, and he swung me up onto Aomir, getting up afterwards himself and leading Gywnna behind. She seemed fairly content to follow Aomir, and it took us little time to make it down the hill, past Charmaine’s house to the town road. We arrived at my house just as the sun was setting, and Father hurried out the door, chagrined to see me on Guy’s stallion with Gwynna.

“Nyssa! Where have you been?” His eyes flicked to Gwynna’s bare back, as if to ask me Did you find a place? I nodded back with my eyes and said casually, 

“I found Mother’s lilies in the woods, Father, and Sir Guy was of some assistance in saving me from a forest bandit.” Guy had now gotten down from the horse and gently lifted me down as well. I felt very light in his arms, and I saw Father tense.

“A bandit? Well, then I thank you, Sir Guy. It is odd to me that you always seem to find my daughter alone,” he said with apprehension.

“I know it, Master Edan.” Guy answered, nonplussed. “I wanted to come here today so that you will know my intentions towards your family. I would like your permission to pay court to your daughter.”

Both of us stared at him.

“Pay court…?” Father stuttered.

“Aye.”

“You wish to marry Nyssa?”

“I do.”

Father could not seem to understand this. “But, you are a lord and we are your vassals, Sir Guy.”

“I don’t care, Master Edan,” Guy said simply. “Your daughter makes me want to be a better man. I can think of no better reason to take a wife.”

I took a deep breath, before exploding into one of the biggest smiles I had ever experienced in my life. “Please say yes, Father,” I said quietly, barely able to contain my excitement.

Father regarded Sir Guy carefully. I could tell he was not pleased by the idea. “I must admit, this match feels very odd to me. Tradesmen’s daughters do not marry knights. Suppose things went poorly and she wanted to leave?”

“Then I would do anything in my power to stop her,” Guy said. His hand gripped my shoulder tightly. “I would make right whatever was not.”

Father continued to eye him. “That is not the answer I was hoping for, Sir Guy,” Father said candidly.

“Master Edan, would you have let your wife go if she was unhappy?”

A pained look crossed Father’s face. “I suppose not,” He still hadn’t let her go, I thought, after seventeen years. He stepped back, and said. “I shall see how you treat her, but for now, every visit is chaperoned. And I reserve the right to break off the courtship at any moment if I suspect you are abusing her.” 

“I would expect no less,” Guy replied. He gracefully took my hand and put it into Father’s, then slung himself up onto Aomir. “I will call on you tomorrow for Nyssa, Master Edan,” he said, reining Aomir to the left, and then urged him into a gallop in the direction of the Manor.

“Stop staring,” Father snapped as I watched his retreating figure. “Have you lost your mind, Nyssa? Why would you encourage that man?”

“Because he loves me,” I said simply, and Father stiffened. “He told me so today, after he had saved me from the thief.”

“Knights say many things to foolish girls to get what they want,” Father retorted.

“He is not who you think!” I cried back. “He was so gentle to me today. Did you know that it was the Sheriff, not him, that gave the order to cut off Delaram’s finger? And that he has forgiven the tax on the Sewards?”

Father mirrored my own reaction to this news. “And this is out of the goodness of his heart?” he said slowly.

“I believe so, and his love for me.”

Defeated for the moment, Father sighed. “Come into the house, Nyssa. You’re shivering.” He opened the door to the warm kitchen, where I smelled bread baking. Lydia must have come by earlier. I turned to him. “So are you going to ask my permission if Lydia can court you?” I smiled.

“Of course not!” he snapped, flushing pink. “You know I have no interest in that woman –“ 

“—other than her bread,” I said, and I had to agree. She was the finest baker in town and my mouth watered at the smell. Father laughed a bit then. “Well, yes. Come and have some dinner, then. I made a vegetable stew.” Famished, I sat down to the table with him and devoured everything on my plate. He regarded me silently as he ate, and I could tell he was thinking heavily on Sir Guy’s courtship.

“Nyssa,” he said.

“Yes?”

I knew what he wanted to ask. He was worried that Guy had today conceived a child with me, but he was afraid to ask. I cut across his question smoothly. “There is no need for concern, Father.” He opened his mouth and then shut it again. 

“Fine. He comes tomorrow, then.”


	9. Chapter 9

Guy did come the following day, and nearly every other day after that. Father received him apprehensively each time, but I began to see them making progress. Both were uncomfortable at first, since this broke so many societal norms that both were used to, but I loved them both more as they continued to try for my sake. Each time he came, Guy brought me a gift, as was customary when paying court. His first gifts were simple; beautiful threads and material for needlepoint so that I could create designs for our clothing. As the weeks progressed though, his gifts became slowly more lavish. He brought me veils made of silk and jeweled combs for my hair, and jasmine oil for my skin. I also had heard from Charmaine that during this time, five more families had been given the same tax leniency that the Sewards had. My heart opened more and more with this news. 

It was now late autumn, and Guy had been due to visit this morning. He was later than usual, so I was relieved when he arrived at the house on Aomir, leading a small female goat.

Father saw this, wiped his hands and went to the door. “Sir Guy,” he said, almost amicably. “I assume you are here for Nyssa?”

“Of course, Master Edan,” Guy replied. His eyes found mine and I blushed. “I had hoped you would accept the gift of this animal as well. Her name is Jemma, and she produces good milk. Perhaps you could sell her milk for cheese or make your own.”

Father was taken aback, and narrowed his eyes. “We have sheep, Sir Guy, but as of yet, no need for a goat.”

Unflappable, Sir Guy gave Father one of his most winning smiles. “Gifts are not meant to fulfill a need, merely to be an offering of good will,” The last was said in a low undertone. 

Gruffly, Father walked forward to examine the animal. She was a beautiful goat, snow shite and very calm, as he picked up her hooves and examined her eyes and nose. “She looks to be in good health,” Father remarked. He looked up at Guy then, his eyes softening a little. “Thank you.”

“You are most welcome,” Guy replied. “And I have something for Nyssa as well, if you will permit me.”

“Yes, yes,” Father said absently. “I will lead her into the back pasture and be with you presently.”

As Father walked Jemma to the back pasture, Guy dismounted and immediately came to take me in his arms. Checking to see that Father was out of sight, he drew me close to him and gave me a passionate, if short kiss. “My love,” he said huskily. “I wanted to give this to you in private.” He withdrew a beautiful gold necklace from his saddlebag and I gasped in delight. The chain was delicately inlaid with golden lilies, and ended with a lily shaped diamond pendant. I had never seen anything so fine in my whole life, let alone touched it. I looked up at him to see him regarding me with a grin that was both pleased and roguish.

“Does it please you?” he asked.

“Oh…” I couldn’t say anything else. He moved behind me. “Then let me put it on you.” He pulled me to his chest, almost as he had the day in Lindson’s, and gently laid the necklace around my throat, fitting the clasp in the back. He placed another kiss where the clasp met, then leaned close to my ear and held me. “I want to see you wear this always, until I have crafted a ring for you.” 

“I will never take it off,” I said breathlessly. “Thank you, Guy. It is so beautiful.”

“It becomes you,” he said, stepping in front of me with a soft smile. We heard Father coming back from the pasture, and he stepped away from me, a respectable distance, but still closer than Father approved of, I could tell. “Does Jemma please you, Master Edan?” he asked.

“She seems a good animal,” Father replied. “Will you stay for lunch, Sir Guy?”

“Sadly, no,” he said, and I noticed his eyes looked troubled for the firs time today. “I have news, Master Edan, which is not to my liking, but I must tell you and Nyssa.”

Father looked concerned. “Would you care to come inside to tell us?”

“If I had time, I would do,” he answered. “I have been called this afternoon to France on the Sheriff’s behalf. He has important political business to attend to, and has demanded my presence.”

All of the air went out of the afternoon as I heard this. Father looked less surprised, but equally displeased. “I see.”

“This is not my choice,” Guy said. “I must do as my lord demands.”

Swallowing, I said, “When will you be back?”

“I do not know.” His eyes avoided mine.

I felt as though an arrow had split through my heart. The necklace Guy had given me lay cold against my neck, no comfort in this ill news. My hands trembled and I breathed out quickly. “Where…how…”

“I believe my daughter is concerned that you may not come back and she will be bound to a memory,” Father cut across me smoothly. “As I have the right to end this courtship, I demand that you send word to us so that she may be free of you if this comes to pass. Nyssa is too precious to me, with too many prospects, Sir Guy.”

Guy’s gaze still avoided both my father’s and mine. “I will send word if I am able,” he said. He refused to look at me. 

Unable to stop myself, I began to cry. “How can this be? Will I ever see you again?” 

“That is my hope, lady,” he said softly. His eyes stuttered to my face, clouds of sad grey-blue. Despite this sadness in them, I felt, knew, that he was not telling us all. Angrily, I glared at him. “Is this really the truth, Guy?”

Once again, he refused to look at me. “As much as I can tell,” he said. He looked at Father. “Master Edan, would you permit me to kiss your daughter goodbye?”

“It is her decision,” he answered.

Guy glanced at my angry, wounded eyes. He moved to me, tilting my head up to his. I wanted to strike him, hurt him the way he was hurting me, but I could not resist the touch of his lips, a much more chaste kiss than the one we had shared previously. Tears flowed from my eyes as it ended, and I looked away from him. “Go,” I said.

“My lady—“

“Please…just go.” I said, stifling a sob. Turning away from him, I ran into the house, slamming the door, and crawled into the back room, sobbing and wailing, pain in every fiber of my being. I heard Aomir’s hoof-beats make a steady tattoo away from the house, and let out another deep wail. I knew that he had not told us everything, and we might never know. I had given my heart to a man that had left me without knowing if he would ever be back, or send word. Despite myself I clutched at the necklace he had given me, wishing to hold him in my arms, to keep him from leaving, and remembering the first day I had heard his voice in this very room. 

I rued that day.


	10. Chapter 10

I went around in a depressed haze of rage and sadness for the next two months. We heard nothing from Sir Guy, though every day I hoped for a letter. I poured out my grief to Charmaine, who was as patient as Job with my mood swings between anger, deep regret, exhilaration over the idea of Guy’s return and everything in between. When I couldn’t visit her, I threw myself into my work with ferocity I had never showed before. I spun, wove, knitted, crocheted and embroidered so much that Father had to tell me to stop near midnight each night, or I would hurt my eyes from the candle. I always did so regretfully, for sleep was elusive, and often woke to his hand on my shoulder, gently trying to ease my crying. While I knew he had never fully approved of my courtship with Sir Guy, I could see that he was not unkind enough to mock me or my dreams. I actually believed he had begun to accept, if not like Sir Guy, and felt angry in equal measure at the situation.

As the weeks passed, out trade continued, and Father began to take me to the black market with him to teach me the tricks of barter and effective sale of our goods. I usually handled our more genteel private customers, such as the ladies of the court and private vendors, but he knew I needed something new to occupy my time. While he was not one to say it, I also believed he wanted to keep a close eye on me. I mostly sat, observing him barter successfully with customers and other tradesmen, in a miasma of wretchedness. I listened and observed, but had no desire to take part in life with others, especially happy couples or families.

One day, while Father was visiting a fellow tradesman’s table to trade for goods, I sat at ours, staring at the cloaks with disdain and attempting to crotchet a hat for winter. I had no inclination to try to sell our wares, this day or any other, and so when the sharp point of a sword was abruptly laid across the purple cloak I had been staring at, it gave me quite a start. 

“Like Euridice rising from the Underworld,” a voice above me called.

Before the speaker could reveal himself, I was up in a flash, over the table and the sword, and had my dagger to the throat of my tormentor. I glared at him, my eyes blazing and snapped, “Get away from our table, you bloody bastard!”

“I give up, my lady,” he said. Hazel eyes stared back into my own, before I realized it was another of the tradesmen’s sons, who was about my own age, simply pulling a prank. He was very attractive, leanly built, with dark hair to match his eyes, and dressed in a loose fitting shirt, and tight fitting breeches. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to reveal muscular forearms and hands callused by work. Those same hands were thrown up in surrender, but with a slight air of humor as if he hadn’t expected me to react so extremely. I still held the dagger at his throat, glaring at him, before using it to push him away. “And don’t brandish swords at people unless you plan to use them, idiot. Go back to your father’s stall,” I hissed.

The young man seemed remarkably unruffled for having just had a knife put to his throat, but such was the atmosphere of the black market. Tempers were often short, as most were afraid of being found out by the Sherriff. He spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “My name is not idiot,” he said, “It’s Will Scarlett.” He took a slow step, more carefully, back towards our table. “Didn’t catch yours, though.”

“I didn’t have the idiocy to drop it,” I said, annoyed. “Do you always go about brandishing weapons at fellow tradesmen?”

“No, just showing my wares,” he said impishly. “My father is Thomas Scarlett, the swordmaker. I thought you might like to see one of my latest creations.”

“I could scarcely have less interest in your sword, Will. It’s a bit short for my taste.” I answered tartly. His eyes gleamed at me, amused. 

“And yet you carry a dagger rather than a sword, lady,” he said. “You haven’t even really given it a good look.”

Still irritated, I glanced at the sword that still lay on our table, well understanding the meaning behind his words. Will was right; the craftsmanship was beautiful. The hilt was simple but finely decorated, and blade looked well balanced, light and strong. 

I glanced back at him brusquely, offering the courtesy of one tradesman to another. 

“Nicely wrought,” I said, “But we have no need of a sword at this moment.”  
“What a shame then, “ he said, smiling a little. “But it is nice to see you up and about after looking forlorn for so long.”

Cold rage began to bubble up from the pit of my stomach. “It’s none of your affair. Leave.”

“Still never caught your name---”

“Nyssa!” Father called out, returning to our table with beads for another cloak. I shook my head in annoyance at him for giving up my name. He noticed Will, and broke into a smile. “Well good morning, Will,” he said. “Is your trade well?”  
“Very well, Master Edan,” Will replied courteously. I nearly vomited. “My father wanted me to show you my newest sword, in case you have any interest in trading for it. I’m afraid I may have spooked your daughter, though,” he said.

“Oh,” Father looked from me to Will, and back to me again. “Well, I’m happy to see her standing, at any rate,”

“As am I,” Will said, his eyes gentler now. He smiled shyly at me, then withdrew the sword from view. “A good day to you both.” He regarded me for a moment before leaving, as Father watched. “Keep those strong spirits, up, Nyssa,” he said kindly. 

I collapsed onto my bench, sighing in frustration. Father smiled. “Well, darling, it seems you are not short of admirers. Will Scarlett is a handsome man and his father is a respected weapons maker. Perhaps there is life after Sir Guy?” he suggested gently.

The mere mention of his name drove a spike through my heart, and my eyes dropped. I felt Father’s warm hand on my shoulder, trying to comfort me. “I’m sorry, love,” he said. “Our tradesmen’s life leaves us with few choices, especially for daughters. But you can still choose to whom you give your heart.”

“My heart is broken,” I said, my face crumpling.

Father sighed. “I know my love,” he said, squeezing my shoulders in a brief embrace. “I know.”

By the end of the day, we had done a brisk business, no thanks to me, but Father was thrilled from the energy of business. As we folded our goods and saddled them onto Gwynna, Father chatted busily about how well we had done and that it might enable us to buy another female sheep for the business. We exited the black market through the usual back route, so that we would not easily be seen by any authorities, and eventually found ourselves on the main road in the midst of town, and several other day travelers. Lost in my thoughts as I was, I barely heard the trot of hoof-beats, and my heart suddenly leapt into my chest. Aomir. I knew his gait better than anyone. Was Sir Guy back then?

As the sounds grew closer, I gripped Father’s hand. “That is Sir Guy’s horse,” I whispered. Father straightened, looking up, and in another moment, the rider came around the corner. I held my breath, waiting.

And exhaled. It was Guy. He had returned. I had forgotten how handsome he was, how tall and masculine, until I saw him round the corner. Tears filled my eyes to see him again, and despite myself, I called out to him. “Guy!” My face broke into the first smile I had experienced since he left.

Aomir immediately slowed as he came close to us; he had learned for many months to do so since Guy always reined him in when he saw me. I was prepared to throw myself into his arms, when I saw him urge Aomir forward, picking up speed. The horse appeared confused until Guy spurred him. Shocked, I cried out, “Guy? GUY!” Several people in the street turned to watch this drama unfold.

He finally looked at me, his eyes cold, his face expressionless. “Sir Guy, tradesman’s daughter. Do you not know how to address your betters?”

I was struck dumb. Father drew himself to his full height, squeezed my hand, and called after him. “Sir Guy, you must forgive my daughter. She was much mistaken.” His words carried a double meaning, which was not lost on Sir Guy. While he did not look back, he shoulders tensed as he rode away.

I was stunned, and leaned against Father in shock. Tears stung my eyes. “Was that…him?” I asked, unable to reconcile the cold man who had snarled at us and the man who had told me he loved me in the lily grove. “Why would he…?”

“I don’t know, Nyssa,” Father said darkly. “But I suspect it has to do with his time in France.” He added, trying to be gentle, “I didn’t want to tell you, but he has been back for a week now. I saw him the other day at one of the clothing shops, but assumed he would call when he could. Something has happened.”

Everything in my stomach emptied upon this news. Gwynna looked at me casually, wondering why I was waylaying us, while Father gently picked me up from my hunched over position, put me on Gwynna’s back, and headed for home.

I had a fever that night, and terrible stomach cramps, so Father put me to bed early and brought me clear broth until the next morning. When he went to the market, he left me with one of Mother’s lilies from our garden, and tucked me into bed for the day. I slept fitfully, hearing a deep baritone in my dreams that continued to torment me: “It’s Sir Guy, tradesman’s daughter… I plan to collect your heart, your soul and your body…”


	11. Chapter 11

After our meeting with Sir Guy on the road and my subsequent illness, we did not speak his name for two weeks. My anger and hurt had overridden my sadness and desire to see him again. At times, I felt so ashamed that I had allowed him so much freedom with my body, and at night, I could still feel his lips on my womanhood, before a painful twinge interrupted my fantasy. I missed his eyes, his body, and his touch desperately, but my pride refused to let me go crawling to him for an explanation. My heart hardened, assuming I was just another near conquest, and that Father had been right about knights and their behavior. I had not wanted to believe him, but he had been right. And he was kind enough not to lord it over me. 

Life continued much as it had since Guy had left. Father and I sustained our business, and I slowly came out of my depression, even started to flirt with Will, who happened by our stall with some regularity. He was never there for very long, and since out first meeting had treated me with wary respect. Yet our exchanges became quite regular, and I even looked forward to his impish humor on black market day.

One particular morning, as I embroidered some a beautiful wedding headdress, Will happened by, carrying a large number of swords and other metal frames. It was quite heavy I could tell, though he bore with weight with ease. Somehow, his foot managed to slide out from under him just in front of our stall. I jumped up, running to the front of the table to help him collect the scattered items. 

“Careful, that’s one’s sharp,” I heard Will murmur as I reached for one of the swords. I drew back a little, then cautiously tried to pick it up. It was very heavy, and I need both hands to wield it properly. I lifted it, and caught Will grinning. 

“That’s a sword for someone twice your size,” he remarked. He put the rest in a neat pile as he reached for it. I stepped back and caught him with the flat of the blade on his wrist. It was heavy and awkward, but I’d be damned if I’d let Will make fun of me.

“Nice move,” he said, bending back down to pick up the pile of swords. Then in a fluid move that I barely caught, he turned back to me, parried the huge blade with one from the pile, and pushed me back a bit. Engaged, I swung awkwardly at him again before he caught the blade with his own, and disarmed me with a circular motion. Flustered, I stepped back, finding myself at the end of our table. His eyes kind but serious, Will gently placed his blade near my neck. “Your pulse is racing, Nyssa,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know you enjoyed danger so much.”

I flushed, despite myself. “Unfortunately, yes,” I replied. “I suppose that means I should actually learn to use of these at some point.”

“I believe so,” he said, lowering the sword and stepping towards me. His hazel eyes searched my face. “You’re angry about something,” he said, annoyingly astute.

“Isn’t everyone?” I said dismissively. “Not enough money, not enough food, too many mouths to feed, too many taxes to pay---“

“Not enough swords to swing?” he asked. I glared at him, to find that it was an honest question. “You have good instincts. You should learn how to defend yourself with more than a dagger.”

“Ever the salesman, Will,” I said teasingly. “You know we don’t have one and it would us take forever to pay you for it.”

“Well, perhaps you could owe us,” Will said, taking a step closer to me. “I’m sure some kind of debt or trade could be worked out…”

…collect your heart, your soul and your body…

“No,” I said quickly, my stomach suddenly sick. I turned and sat at the table, a safe distance away. “Thank you, I mean, but I----“

“Will!” I heard Father call out cheerfully. “Need to buy any of the best wool in the county?”

“I might be willing to trade for some of it, Master Edan,” Will answered casually. My eyebrows shot up. “No! Will!” I said.

“Really?” Father’s eyes lit up at the idea of a trade. “What do you have that you’re wanting to trade?”

“Well, I don’t have it yet,” Will said smoothly. “But I can make it.” His eyes went back to me, and I looked away, embarrassed. “I think your daughter has a natural talent for survival.”

Father looked surprised, then began to laugh. Great bellows of laughter clawed their way out of his throat and roared out of him, so much so that he doubled over. I must have looked shocked. I couldn’t remember seeing him laugh this hard since Mother had died. Will seemed amused at my reaction.

“That she does,” Father replied, still laughing. “Though I’m glad to hear you say it as well. Did she set on you with the dagger again?”

“With one of my own swords this time,” Will answered seriously, his eyes but sparkling with laughter. Father’s eyes widened. “Nyssa!”

“I jest, Master Edan,” Will said, spreading his hands. “But Nyssa had good instincts with a weapon, and she’s very quick. Have you never thought of training her in the arts of weaponry? My father has taught my sister, mostly to defend herself from…assault.”

Father considered this carefully. He glanced around the stall yard for several moments, seeming uninterested. “And of course, you would make the weapon,” he said, slowly. “For Nyssa.”

“For Nyssa,” Will repeated, glancing at me. “If you would trade me for it.”

Father gave him a crooked smile. “You’ll never make it up, Will.”

“Oh, I think a winter’s worth of your cloaks just might, “ Will replied. They dickered for a few more moments before price was settled, and Father sighed, still wondering if this was wise. He walked to me and said quietly. “You know why I do this.”

“Yes, Father, I replied.

“And you’re not to tell anyone,” he said. “Most would not understand a woman with a blade. But I see the need.” He walked back to Will. “Escort my daughter to the smithy. I want her to see this process from start to finish, so she knows just how much skill it takes.” Smart, I thought. He would also have me learn in this way and oversee that Will wasn’t cheating us, though I doubted he suspected it.

“As, you wish, Master Edan,” Will said, picking up the remains of his spilled weapons. “I will walk with her to the smithy today after we have closed.” As I heard this, a sudden panic gripped me. I turned to Father. “You’re not coming with us?”

He shook his head. “You know I have to take the rest of our wares home. I think Will can handle a trip to the smithy with you. Unless you’re afraid I can’t make it home without you.” He smiled a little then, gently encouraging me. 

“I don’t want to be alone with him,” I practically hissed.

“Why not? You’ve been flirting for the past few weeks, and it would be good for you to see this done,” Father said. “I won’t have any arguments. This is business, Nyssa.” His eyes were kind but firm, and I knew he was right. He’d agreed to buy one of the most expensive items of defense available for me. The least I could do was to walk with its maker.

Sighing, I turned to Will. “Well, you’ve got your way,” I said.

“And it seems you’ve got yours as well,” he replied. “So let’s go to Ciaran’s smithy.”

I slung my daypack over my shoulder and fastened my cloak, following Will out of the black market. He dropped off the pile of swords at Thomas’ stall, keeping one with him for our journey to the smithy. As we left, I looked back at Father, who watched us with much more care and trepidation than I had expected. He smiled a little at me, and gave a gentle wave. I smiled sadly back, and followed Will out of the glen. 

I knew Father wanted me to forget Guy as soon as possible. 

I wished it was so easy.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

“What are you thinking?”

“Hmm?” Will’s voice had jarred me from remembering the last time I had walked with a man alone in the glen. “Oh, nothing. Why?”

“You look sad,” Will answered. Frowning, I glared at him. 

“Well, I’m not.” We continued walking in silence, Will slightly ahead of me, glancing at me from time to time. I refused to look at him and kept an appropriate distance between us, but he continued to read me with his eyes. I hated it and felt my body growing stiffer as he looked at me. 

“Can you stop that? Don’t you have something better to look at?” I snapped.

“Well, now that’s a good question,” Will said. “It’s a near perfect fall day. There’s just a bite of winter in the air, and leaves are all gold and red. The sky is a canopy of grey over us. So yes, Nyssa, there are many things to look at, but better…I am not sure.”

He gazed at me warmly and sympathetically with those disarming hazel eyes, and I quickly looked away. “Perhaps you need spectacles,” I offered.

Will smiled then, despite himself. “Perhaps you might tell me what you were thinking that made you look sad,”

I swallowed. “Just about…how lying comes easily to some.”

Will said nothing, but kept walking beside me. We kept that silence for a while, a silence that went from awkward to more comfortable, as I realized I did not have to make idle chat. As we walked, I began to notice what Will had spoken of: the carpet of leaves on the forest floor, the chill in the air, and eventually a comforting smell of burning wood. I knew we were nearing the smithy, because I caught a sharp acrid scent of melted metal and ore.

As we rounded the next bend, I saw the blacksmith’s hut come into view. We were greeted by two friendly spaniels who obviously knew Will. They begged him for scratches on their ears before uttering brief barks to their master. Will called out “Master Ciaran! It’s Tom’s son Will to see you!” 

Ciaran appeared from the back yard, wearing a smith’s apron. He was a big, friendly looking man, well muscled with grey growing in at his temples, and smiled to see Will. “Ah, Will! Glad to see you!” They shook hands briefly before he looked at me expectantly. “And who’s this?”

“This is Master Edan’s daughter, Nyssa,” Will said. “She…came with me today to help. I’ve had a commission for a sword from some noble brat teenager, who’s about her size. I needed a model for the length of the sword.”

“Well then, Nyssa, how kind of you to come,” Master Ciaran replied, his eyes sparkling. I smiled shyly. “I’m sure it was a great hardship for Will to bring along such a beauty.”

We both blushed furiously. 

“How delightful. She has no idea what you’re up to, Will,” Ciaran commented gleefully. “Well, I’ve embarrassed you both enough. Come look at the material I have, Will.”

As we followed him, I whispered, “I thought you were the one making this sword!”

“I am,” he whispered back. “But he has access to the best steel in the county and sells it cheaply to Father because they are friends. I just want to see what he has.” He jerked his head for me to follow him into Ciaran’s storage house, where we came upon an array of metal pieces, some steel, others iron and in many varying sizes and weights. Will and Ciaran knelt, and Will began picking through what was there, often muttering, “No, too heavy,” or “No, too long.” Eventually he found three pieces that he seemed pleased with, and stood up, leaning the three of them against the wall. He grabbed a nearby rag and wrapped one end of the first. ”Here, Nyssa, see how this feels to you.” I took the sheet of iron with its wrapping, and tried to lift. “It’s a bit heavy.” 

“I agree,” said Will. “Not properly balanced. Try this.”

I tried the second, which felt much the same, but the third had a lightness and play about it even in a raw form, that I liked. “This one,” I told him. Will measured my arm with his eyes, then the piece of metal, and sighed. “Steel, of course,” he said. “I’m sure it’s your most expensive.”

“The lady has a keen eye,” said Ciaran, pleased. “From France.”

I shuddered a moment, thinking only of France as a place that had changed Guy for the worse. “Really?” I asked, wrinkling my nose.

“Aye, lass, I hate the French too, but they sell damn good steel,” Ciaran said. “I will send it along to your house, Will. We can settle on a price when you’re not…courting.”

“He is not courting me,” I said coolly, now tired of being teased. “We are only friends in trade.”

I saw hurt flash briefly in Will’s eyes, before he nodded. “She speaks rightly, Ciaran. Much as I try, the lady keeps me at arm’s length.”

“Well, she’s a smart lass, then,” Ciaran said. He looked at the two of us, a smile on his face. “You should know he doesn’t give up easily, Nyssa. He might change your mind. Much the worse for you,” he finished, still laughing. “All right, be off with you both. I’ve got work to do.” He gave Will a small wave as we moved towards the door of the storage house, and winked at me.

As we walked back to the path, I said, “I like him.”

“I knew you would.”

I laughed a little. “He seems honest and forthright. Good qualities to have in trade, and not always easy to come by.”

“As always, we are of one mind,” Will said. He smiled at me, glancing ahead. “Watch out, you’re about to step into a hole—“

I tripped. His hand immediately reached for my arm to support me, and he caught my waist with the other. I gasped from surprise and from the sudden contact, automatically straightening myself and stumbling away. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so clumsy---“

“No, you just don’t know this path,” Will gently said, catching my hand. His face had come close to mine for a moment, and I saw compassion in his eyes. “It’s easy to fall unless you do.” I wanted to keep looking at him in that moment, to let myself trust again, and to see what would happen next. But I was still too afraid. I moved back a bit further and drew my hand away, feeling singed. Will looked as though he had expected this, and regarded me softly. “Nyssa,” he said. “Not everyone lies.”

I turned away, tears stinging my eyes. “I know,” I managed to say. “Let’s keep walking.” Will made no reply, but moved ahead of me. We resumed our silent walk, eventually reaching the town road that led towards my house. It was growing late, and the lights in the taverns were coming up. I smelled ale and sounds of men talking and laughing inside. As we passed, several men stumbled out, arms around each other’s shoulders, speaking incoherently. I jumped in surprise and Will instinctively stepped towards me. “It’s all right, they’re in high spirits,” he said glancing after the men. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” I answered, “but you know I can’t go into a tavern for dinner.”

“I understand, of course,” Will said. “No respectable unmarried woman should. I happen to know the tavern owner though, and he might give us a small meal to share out here, perhaps on the green. Your father wouldn’t mind, do you think?”

“I’m sure he would be thrilled,” I said bitterly, and Will caught my tone. He finally lost patience with me.

“You don’t have to say yes. In fact, I’m happy to take you home straight way if that’s what you want. I certainly have no wish to be with someone who despises my company.”

I dropped my gaze. “I’m sorry, Will,” I said. “This all is…hard for me. You’ve been very kind to me today and I have no right to lash out at you, or my father. Please pardon my temper, it does get the best of me sometimes.” I looked back at him. “I’d be happy to share supper with you, if I can pay for half of it.” I held out two coins fro my purse, cocking my head speculatively.

“I will take them, but there is no need,” Will said. “Ragnar never lets me pay for food here.” He turned, a small smile on his face. “Wait here for a few moments. I’ll be back shortly.” He strode into the tavern, briefly letting out a gust of noise and hearty laughter. As he entered, he nearly crossed paths with another stumbling devotee of spirits, who had been deep in his cups. I could only see an outline of the tall figure or I would have certainly moved away from the tavern entrance before I heard my name called.

“Nyssa?”

The voice. His voice. 

Once it had sent a spike of heat through my body. Now, chills were racing down my spine as I realized the outlined figure was Sir Guy. I started to move away, but he called again. 

“Nyssa? Is that you?” His voice was deep, husky from drink and more heavily accented than usual. I felt him stumble against me, and then abruptly pull me into the evening’s fading light. His face was urgent, almost panicked, until he saw that it was in fact, me. Heavy lidded and unfocused, his eyes lit up a bit at recognizing me. “Oh, God’s bones, it is you…” Guy said, his voice cracking. His face began to slip into a long forgotten smile as he looked at me.

As furious as I was with him, I could not stop trembling, nor stop staring. I wanted to move away, but I could only absorb the sight of him, even if he was in a very altered state. He was breathtakingly alive and so beautiful. Stubble had grown in along his jawline and his dark hair brushed his collar in waves. His sapphire eyes scorched over my face and collarbone, drinking me in as if he had lived in a desert. I felt his hand reach to hold the back of my head in a familiar gesture, and it was then that the spell was broken. I pushed back against his chest, hard, and he staggered back.

“How. Dare. You.” I seethed at him. “You lying, filthy bastard!”

“Shhh, shh,” Guy said softly, trying to move towards me again, but I would not be shushed.

“No!’ I cried. “I have heard nothing, nothing from you for two months! You lied to me! You lied and you taunted me, you earsling!”

“Nyssa, be silent,” Guy commanded. In move that I never saw coming, he crossed the distance between us, roughly gripping and pulling me to him. I beat against his chest with my fists, trying to strike him, scratch him, inflict some measure of the hurt he had inflicted on me. Guy was so tall that I could barely reach his shoulders, and seemed mildly amused by my efforts. With little effort, he easily grabbed my wrists and held them still, but I struggled like mad, kicking, fighting, wrestling my body away from him in any way that I could. “Stop it!” he hissed at me. 

“Never!” I shouted back. “I will never stop fighting you!” My foot connected with his shin and I heard him inhale sharply in pain, then grunt in anger. He dragged me back towards the tavern, slamming me against the wall of the building and trapping me there, his arms on either side of my shoulders. I breathed heavily, glaring at him. “Calm down!” he ordered, glaring back. 

In answer, I spat in his face, and attacked it with my nails. I wanted to destroy him, kill his beauty, which hid a violent beast underneath. Furiously surprised, Guy retaliated by gripping my hands in one of his, and smashing them back against the wall over my head. Panting, I glared at him and was readying myself for a blow, tilting my chin up to receive it. He breathed heavily, rage in his eyes. His breath smelled of whisky, and sweat stood out on his upper lip. I wanted to lick it, then bruise it. As this thought flashed through my head, Guy rasped out,

“God’s bones, you arouse me so with your mettle!”

My head knocked back against the wall as Guy’s lips crushed against mine in a bold, violent kiss that took everything and gave nothing. He kept me pinned there, ravishing my mouth, and I bit back against him, my teeth catching his lip. I tasted blood, but Guy did not stop, his tongue savage in my mouth, exploring every corner, every part. I was losing my ability to breathe easily, and wondered if he was in fact trying to suffocate me. I struggled, but the more I did the harder he drove his body against mine. I could feel his excitement, fury and fierceness all at once, which only increased my own. I wanted to hit him, hurt him, make him pay for his lies. Despite my fury, tears were gathering in my eyes, spilling over and down my cheeks, and I knew I would not be able to fight him much longer; he was simply too strong. As my fight lessened, Guy’s assault on my lips grew calmer as well. I felt him breathe out against my mouth and his deep baritone rumbled in my ear. 

“You taste of sunlight and honey.” 

His sudden gentleness broke my heart even further, and more tears fell down my cheeks as I looked up at him. He looked back at me, sadness filling his face as he saw my tears. He moved to kiss one away when I heard the tavern door swing open and the zing of a blade being drawn.

“Let her go.”

I felt Guy stiffen, and nearly cried out for relief as I recognized Will’s voice. Guy slowly turned a baleful gaze at Will. “This is none of your affair, boy,” he said in a low, threatening tone.

“I said,” Will repeated in a dangerous voice, “let her go.” I turned my head a little to see that his sword was drawn, the tip resting on Guy’s ribcage. Guy was furious, but slowly released my hands, and I scrambled past him to Will’s other side, moving well away from the tavern door. Guy stared after me, looking as if he wanted to follow, but Will raised his sword to eye level and simply said. “Don’t.”

“You have a great deal of nerve, boy,” Guy said threateningly. “Do you know who I am?”

“I am not a boy and everyone knows who you are, Sir Guy,” Will said. “I also know that knights share a code of honor. Given your condition, perhaps you forgot this.”

“How dare you?” Guy snapped, reaching clumsily for his own sword, but Will moved forward and easily disarmed him. “I won’t fight you in this state, Sir Guy,” Will said evenly. “But I won’t let you hurt the daughter of a fellow tradesman, either. Nyssa, move onto the road and start walking. I will follow shortly.” Will’s gaze tracked Guy like a hawk as I began to move away. Guy scowled after me, his lip bloody, eyes misty but focused. As I turned onto the main road, I heard him say quietly,

“This is all far from over.”

I heard Will answer, but knew Guy’s words were not meant for him.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

I hurried home along the town road for about ten minutes before I saw the comforting lights of home. My lips and wrists were swollen from Guy’s assault, and I nearly broke into tears for the third time that day upon seeing Father, who had been pacing outside the house. He hurried towards me and threw his arms about me. “Nyssa, I was very worried! Why did Scarlet take so long? Are you all right?” He held my face as I nodded, still shaken.

“Will was a perfect gentleman. We had a altercation with Sir Guy and he defended me,” I said.

Father’s eyes darkened to a dangerous green hue. “Damn Guy of Gisborne. Damn him! What happened—“

“Master Edan!” Will called out, coming round the bend to our house. His sword was sheathed, and his brow damp from sweat. He carried a small pouch, which I assumed held our forgotten dinner. He looked at me quickly. “Master Edan, I am sorry I was not able to help Nyssa sooner—“

“On the contrary, Scarlet,” Father said. “She said that you defended her honor. And I am most grateful for it.”

Will slowed his pace, breathing heavily. He bent over from the waist, trying to catch his breath form running. “I’m so sorry that it happened. It was my fault; I was trying to impress her with a simple dinner. I should have taken her straight home, Master Edan.”

“Oh, Will,” I said. I ran to him and put my arms around his shoulders, more for comfort than affection. “You were wonderful.” Will was taken aback, but allowed me to embrace him before he stepped back politely. Father looked at both of us, a slight smile on his face. Will held up the pouch. “This was to be dinner, but I leave it for you and Nyssa. I should have protected Nyssa and instead I was busy showing off.”

“You did what any young man might have done,” Father said slowly. “And Nyssa seems grateful, which means that I am as well. Will,” he said, “thank you for protecting my daughter from that blackguard.”

“Yes, Master Edan,” Will said. I could tell that he was still humiliated by the whole event, and wanted to make everything right. “I will leave you now.”

“No, Will, you will come inside this instant and share supper with us. I won’t allow this favor to go un-thanked,” Father said firmly. Will looked relieved, and starving. He unbuckled his sword, leaving it outside the door and strode into our house for the first time. I busied myself with organizing the meal he had brought; bread, cheese, some dried beef. Father brought in raw vegetables from the garden and I washed them hurriedly. All of us were ravenous as we sat down and feasted at the meal, and none spoke for several minutes. An air of calm descended as the pangs of hunger and stress died away. Will drank a cup of Father’s mead, his eyes tired now, and leaned back in his chair, his legs crossed. Still munching, Father asked,

“How did you handle Gisborne, Will?”

Will smiled a bit. “I disarmed him, gave his sword to the tavern keeper who is my friend, and told him to go back inside. He will get it back once he’s eaten something and had no more drink.”

“I didn’t know you had such skill with a blade,” Father said. “Gisborne is a skilled knight, and one of the best swordsmen in Nottingham.”

“Well, when you grow up around swords I suppose you pick a few things up,” Will said shyly, glancing at me. I shook my head at his modesty. “And Gisborne was quite drunk,” he added.

“Oh, stop,” I said, “You know the ways of a sword.”

“I could teach you,” he said quietly.

Father and I both looked at him. “You mean, as well as making my sword?” I asked.

“It’s no good if you can’t use it,” Will said. “I can show you some basic defense moves and if you like, other more aggressive ones.”

At first uncertain, Father nodded. “It sounds as if you might need them,” he said, “especially if Gisborne decides to have one too many pints again. I wish I could always be there to protect you, Nyssa, but it’s better if you can do it for yourself.” He smiled at Will then. “Right. I’ll allow her to come to you twice a week for sword study, once you’ve completed your work.”

“Shouldn’t take long,” Will replied. “And we have other swords she could practice with until I’ve finished hers. Tomorrow after market is over is fine with me, if Nyssa has the time.”

 

My first lesson was terrible. I was ready to tell Will that he needn’t make my sword after all.

Will showed me basic parrying defensive moves, which at first felt a bit like dancing. I balanced on two feet with my left forward, and practiced the steps. But once there was a heavy metal object in my hand, it became hard to focus on more than one thing, and as he thrust at me and I tried to parry I invariably missed blocking him. He was very careful to stop his sword before it hit me, but my own frustration with myself grew. It was nearly out of control after half an hour, and he told me to rest. I tossed the sword down and threw myself on the ground. “I’m miserable at this. Admit it.”

“You’ve only just started,” Will said, sitting beside me. “I’ve been practicing since I was five. I’m supposed to be better than you.”

“I’m not used to being bad at things,” I said with annoyance. “Everything from carding, knitting, crocheting, anything to do with wool that’s creative, I knew almost immediately. This—“ I said, gesturing at the sword, “is pointless. I’ll kill myself before I save myself.”

“No, you won’t,” Will said kindly. He gently touched my shoulder. I tried not to flinch. “It’s just like the path in the forest; you don’t know it yet. You will.”

I sighed, irritated. “I feel helpless and vulnerable. I hate it.” I hugged my knees to my chest, unaware that I had told Will something I never admitted to myself. “Gisborne made a fool of me the other night, and I could do nothing, nothing to defend myself, and I still can’t today!”

“Give yourself more than a day, Nyssa. You can’t expect to be perfect right away,” Will said. “And don’t blame yourself for the other night. I saw you trying to fight back. Gisborne is just like his crest, a big wolf, so his strength will win every time. You have to be more like…a fox, and use his size and strength against him. You’ll learn how. Now, up again.” Will handed me my practice sword, a big heavy thing, and I rolled my eyes in annoyance. We faced one another again in a fencing stance.

“Now, if I was Gisborne,” Will said. “I would probably charge you like this.” He moved suddenly towards me, and I instinctively stepped back. “No, don’t give him the advantage. You can’t let him intimidate you into a corner or you’ll have a repeat of last night. Don’t step back. Step to the side and around in back of him. Then you’ve got the advantage.” Will drew my arm up with his so that I stepped forward but to the left, and then turned me around. “Now I’m behind you. Parry left,” I actually remembered how this time, and blocked correctly for the first time that day. 

“Good!” Will said enthusiastically, smiling. “When you’re fighting someone bigger than you, they will by default move more slowly. Whatever way that they try to move, see if you can always get in back of them or to the side. If you have to fight aggressively, don’t find yourself in a corner or you’ve lost already. Be quicker and drive him back, don’t let him drive you.”  
I smiled. “Will, you really are wonderful.”

“And keep your guard up!” Will said suddenly, raising his sword and swinging at me. I blocked right and swung back. “Never assume that it’s safe.” He blocked my swing easily and then disarmed me with the same circular movement he’d used before. I groaned and rolled my eyes. Will kept the point of his sword eye level with me and urged me to move back. I stepped back again, but he said, “Don’t let me move you back, Nyssa, remember. If you move left or right without your sword I can cut you in half. What can you do?”

Thinking quickly, I feinted left and then dove right, rolling underneath his blade. He nicked the back of my calf, but I had still escaped. “And now you’re behind me,” he finished. “Nicely done.” He bowed deeply from the waist and smiled fully at me, his hazel eyes warm, as he reached down to help me up. I smiled and took his hand, attempting to brush leaves from my hair. And then it happened.

His sword tip came up again, lining up with my collarbone. Unsure of what this next lesson involved, I tried to hold my ground, but he forced me to move back against a tree trunk or be impaled. My eyes searched an escape, but he was too quick and blocked my first attempt. He continued backing me up until the cool point of the sword rested on my frantic pulse. Fear took hold of me, and I swallowed. Then he dropped his weapon and stepped closer to me.

“I told you never to assume it’s safe,” he said darkly. He was close enough that I could feel his breath on my neck. “Why didn’t you listen?”

I swallowed again. “I thought the lesson was over,” I answered, trying to sound playful. In truth, the last time I had seen this side of Will was when he had told Sir Guy to let me go. I felt him lean closer to me, as he rested his sword in the earth, and my eyes flicked to it.

“And I thought that you liked danger,” Will responded. He leaned a bit closer, his breath tickling the shell of my ear. “Did you change your mind?”

I couldn’t respond. It was too much like something Guy would ask and that twisted my insides apart. This was, in fact, exactly the way he’d pinned me last night. Did all men take lessons in how to do this? I felt myself scowling, before I tilted my chin up to Will’s face. “Perhaps,” I said softly. “It is so alluring in some.” Will’s eyebrows shot up and he regarded me quizzically. I raised an eyebrow back and reached up, gently letting my finger trail across his cheek. Intrigued, he took another step closer.

“And not as much in others,” I said quickly, stomping on his left foot. He cursed as he went down, still trying to hold his sword for balance, but I moved around him and ran up the forest path towards home without warning. As I fled, I tossed over my shoulder, 

“Never assume it is safe, Will Scarlett!” 

I heard the sound of his laughter mingled with a curse. 

“Right! Day after tomorrow then!”


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

 

It was the day after my lesson with Will, and two days after the run in with Sir Guy that I found myself sharing a private smile with Jemma, the white goat Sir Guy had given us. She was a sweet creature whom we bore no ill will. She cleaned up the weeds in the yard and some parts of the barn for us. Today she had gotten hold of a sock I had darned and left hanging out to dry and decided that was a good breakfast. One of the goatherds nearby had warned me that goats will eat anything, but Jemma appeared to have a taste for wool, of course. It only fit. 

She’d finished most of the sock when I found her so I had my hand halfway down her throat when I felt myself smile faintly. Only Sir Guy could be responsible for this predicament. Between breaking my heart, his unpredictable moodiness and sock eating gifts, what else could he do to us? Perhaps I was finally recovering from him. I tapped Jemma fondly on the nose. “Troublemaker,” I told her. She rolled her eyes at me and reached for the slimy sock in my hand a second time. I batted her nose away, and got up to go into the house.

“Nyssa!” Father called. He looked concerned. “I have to go to the black market today, but I need you to make some deliveries. One of them is very important; it’s for Mr. Morrison, and he said it has to be there in an hour. It’s for a wedding client.”

I frowned, rolling my eyes. “You just don’t want to do the delivery yourself.” Mr. Morrison ran the most expensive clothing shop in town, and while he charged his clients top prices he rarely passed the earnings on to his suppliers. He was an intemperate man who put on airs around other tradesmen and was extremely proud of his snobbish noble clientele. Unfortunately even at the prices he paid us, he was still one of the higher paying clients in town. And, he was nicer to young pretty girls than their older fathers.

“It won’t take long, and then you can come to the market later,” Father aid. “I hope Will has recovered from your lesson yesterday.”

I sighed. “Oh, all right,” I said. “How much to we need to deliver?”

“I’ll pack it onto Gwynna. It’s three cloaks, and that beautiful wedding headdress you made.” I smiled, remembering how I had enjoyed embroidering that headdress. I was proud of it; a pale green color with beading around the edges of very fine merino wool. I hoped to make one like it for myself one day. Ten minutes later, Gwynna and I were headed into town and to Morrison’s clothing shop. It was a short walk, and I moved her quickly along now that winter had come. It was raining lightly when we arrived. I tied her up to one of the posts outside Morrison’s shop, noticing the fine white horse next to her. This must belong to the client, I thought absently.

I walked into the store carrying the heavy wrapped package, skillfully opening it with my foot and maneuvering my way inside. “I have your delivery, Mr. Morrison,” I said, then stopped abruptly as I looked up.

Morrison was standing next to to a woman I had never seen before. She was older than me, perhaps by five years, and striking with yellow hair that was left unbound to her waist. Her slim figure was aided by an expensively cut dress in rose-colored French silk. The waist nipped savagely in to reveal an hourglass figure and the bodice was cut almost half an inch too low, lifting her breasts up and forward. I had never seen such a fine and scandalously made dress in my life. She sniffed as she regarded me, speaking in heavily accented English,

“Your shop smells, Mr. Morrison.”

“Oh, pay her no mind, Lady Sabine,” Morrison said. “She’s my woolmaker’s daughter. I told him your headdress had to be delivered today,” he said proudly.

Lady Sabine did not appear impressed. As she spoke again, I realized that she must be French and that was why her accent had sounded odd to me. “Quelle horreur! In Paris the merchants always enter through the back door, not the front.”

“Well, we are a bit less formal here,” Mr. Morrison said. “but you will be very pleased with her work, Lady Sabine. Show her the headdress, Nyssa.”

I hurried to place the package on the table. Lady Sabine sniffed again as I passed her, to let me know that I should not come any closer. I stood by the table, eyes cast down as Father had taught me in the presence of a noble. Morrison unwrapped and removed the headdress. “See, as I told you, Lady Sabine. The finest quality.”

Sabine examined the headdress, clucking her tongue. “Well, it is certainly not Parisien work, but I suppose it will have to do. I must get used to these things.”

Arrogant cow, I thought, but was not surprised to find such a client in Morrison’s shop. She was one of many that we served and would forget later, only to be replaced by another. Keeping my eyes cast down, I said, 

“Many salutations for your wedding, my lady.”

Sabine’s icy gaze fell on me again. “Is it common, Morrison, for common merchants to address nobles in this way in England? Mon Dieu, this I may never get used to.” She turned back to the mirror, preening as she put on the wedding headdress. “Yes, it fits well. I suppose it will do. How much for my order?”

Morrison looked at me. I hated this girl, and I was going to make sure she felt the bite of business in her fantastic rear end. “One hundred and fifty crowns for the cloaks and the headdress.”

“Ah, mon Dieu! Well, I carry no money, but my fiancé will be here to pay for it all at any moment. It is my trousseau, you know,” Sabine said, as if to teach me something I could never understand. I refused to look at her, keeping my eyes to the floor. Sabine sighed, as she got no reaction from me. “I suppose merchant girls have no trousseau to speak of. But is very important in France.” I nodded, still keeping my eyes away. 

She turned back to look at me, suddenly interested. “I like her cloak, Morrison,” she said. It was the sea foam colored one that I always wore to expensive shops, and was decorated with embroidery around the edges and hem. “Girl, did your father make that too?” 

“Yes, my lady,” I said. “It is the only one of its kind.”

She clapped her tiny hands. “Excellent! Tell him I want one just like it. You can add it to my order,” she said to Morrison.

“Of course, my lady. And will this be paid for today as well?” Morrison asked happily. 

“Certainement,” Sabine said. Her head suddenly flew up as she heard the sound of hoofbeats. “There is my fiancé now.”

I stiffened. No, it could not be. No. My heart began to race and I felt color draining from my cheeks, and my stomach filling with bile. “Mr. Morrison, perhaps I can have my Father collect later today. I really must go.” Morrison began to protest, but I put my hood up and stumbled resolutely towards the door, to see the rider arrive and swing himself off of his stallion, which he tied up next to the white horse. I backed away from the door, trying to keep my face covered. He was coming to the door, and if I was careful I might be able to pass by him as he entered. As I felt the door swing open, I tried to duck past him, but heard him bark at me,

“You wait! I have business to attend to!”

Obediently I stepped backwards inside, and stood by the door, as Sir Guy of Gisborne strode into the shop, looking more irritated than I had ever seen. “Morrison. What has the order come to?” He pulled his gloves off and tossed them on the wooden counter, then slung himself into a chair nearby, one long leg draped over the side. 

Sabine clapped her white hands again upon seeing him. “Mon chere! You are in perfect time! The merchant girl was about to leave, but you stopped her. My handsome knight,” she purred, sashaying over to him. He looked up at her, still seeming annoyed, and then glanced at me.

I took a moment to put my cloak hood back and let my red hair spill around my shoulders. I felt as though I might be sick at any moment, but I would not be sick in front of Sabine. I looked Guy straight in the face, which Sabine murmured over, displeased. To hell with her, I thought. “My apologies, Sir Guy. I have urgent business elsewhere today. If you could but pay the one hundred and fifty crowns owed, I will leave you to celebrate the happiness of your upcoming wedding with your fiancée.”

Guy’s face was white, and I saw sweat break out on his brow. Somehow, this gave me the courage to continue. “And Lady Sabine would like a cloak that is a direct copy of mine. We shall work on it straight away, but I cannot guarantee when it will be done as I do not know the date of your wedding.” The last I said with a quaver in my voice, and then dropped my eyes so that he would not see my tears. I would not cry in front of them.

“You do not mind, do you, beau?” Sabine cooed, leaning into him and boldly caressing his hanging leg. He appeared completely unaware, his mouth slightly open, still staring at me. “Mon chere?” she asked, now sounding a bit frustrated by his lack of attention.

“Sir Guy?” I said, looking at him again. “Did your hear your fiancée? Is the sale appropriate?”

“Mon grand gentihomme,” Sabine said, pressing herself against Guy again, “I know it is much more than we agreed, but I love this cloak. Perhaps,” she said, her voice dropping low, “I will wear it for you, and only it. We shall experiment, like last night, oui?”

At this new information, it took everything I had for the bile in stomach not to erupt onto Morrison’s floor. I bit it back, slamming my jaws shut and dropping my eyes once more. I heard Sir Guy get up from his chair and move towards me. I could not look at him, so kept my eyes cast downward, but extended my hand for the payment that he owed. “One hundred and fifty crowns, Sir Guy,” I said.

“Look at me,” he commanded. I shook my head. His voice dropped dangerously low. “This is much more than was agreed upon, merchant’s daughter.”

“I am sorry, Sir Guy,” I said, raising my head and allowing myself to look him in the eye, “but I simply cannot take less.”

“Oh, please give it to her, Guy,” Sabine prompted happily. I hated the way she pronounced his name, though I supposed it was correct.   
Guy glared at me, his blue eyes unreadable. He reached into his doublet, removed a small money purse and spilled the coins into his hand. Then, he reached out took my wrist and opened my palm to count them out. I winced, feeling singed, but allowed it. He began slowly counting the coins in a low voice, his hand brushing my palm as he did so. I looked away, determined not to cry.

As he kept counting, his voice dropped lower in between saying the numbers, so that I could barely hear him. “I want to see you.”

“No,” I whispered back, still refusing to look at him.

“I must see you.” It was not a request.

“Guy, are you nearly finished?” Sabine called out. I could tell she did not like how long he was taking to pay me. 

Guy whirled around and snarled at her, “I though you wanted me to take care of this. Vous n’avez pas plein du patience? C’est beaucoup du l’argent!” I didn’t understand the last, but Sabine immediately quieted, looking piqued.

He was nearly finished counting out the coins, which meant my torture was almost over. “Nyssa,” he said slowly, “I must speak with you.”

“Go back to your French whore,” I said, smiling sweetly as he deposited the last coin in my hand. “I’m sure she would love to speak with you.” Guy did not miss the implication of my last jibe. The shock on his face was almost comical, before dark clouds descended upon it. Raising my voice to a normal level, I said, “Thank you all for your business, and my best wishes for a beautiful wedding. I will take my leave now.” I moved away from then three of them, feeling Guy’s gaze burning into my back like a firebrand. 

As I passed through the door, and hurried to Gwynna’s side, I touched her soft fur, and she whickered obligingly at me. It was then that I allowed the tears slip down my face. I didn’t want them to see, so I mounted Gwynna and clicked my tongue for her to trot to the main road. I urged her into a gallop as we got further away from the shop, and managed to keep my head up as sobs ripped their way from my throat. I slowed her as we neared the house, leaning my weight on her neck and holding her as I wept, remembering an afternoon in a lily grove that seemed a lifetime ago, and man’s voice saying,

“You have my heart, Nyssa. I love you.”


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

Once I had released some of my grief and tears, I wanted to see Father. Wiping my face, I urged Gwynna to the black market path, crossing several wooded areas and doubling back, in case I was followed. I was unsure of what Sir Guy might do next, but I did not need him to find the black market. Once there, I crossed under the bridge to the clearing to see Father and Will chatting near his table. Will brightened as I approached, and stood with an exaggerated limp. “We were wondering when you would finish your delivery,” he said. “I was concerned that you might have maimed Morrison in some way.”

I forced a nervous smile to my face, but both of them immediately knew something was wrong. “Will, would you let me speak to my father alone for a moment?” Curious but obliging, Will nodded and departed for his father’s stall.

I wasted no time in telling Father everything. He listened patiently, his face dark, but with less surprise than I had hoped. When I was done, he shook his head. 

“It pains me to see you hurt, and used in this way. Obviously he was not serious about his courtship for you.”

I had no reply.

Father took my hand. “Sir Guy is unpredictable. We may have to be even more careful now with our tax payments, and I want you to continue learning swordplay from Will. You may have to tell him about Sir Guy,” he added bleakly.

“I know,” I said. I didn’t look forward to it, because I truly cared for Will.

“It’s time to close,” he said, looking at the sun. “Let’s gather our things and take Gwynna. Would you like to ask Will to dinner?” 

“Not tonight,” I said, feeling exhausted. Father nodded, and we began folding cloaks and dresses to pack onto Gwynna. I saw Will heading to our table, and sighed inwardly. “Do you need any help, Nyssa?” he asked.

“We are fine, Will,” I said, flashing my most artificial and dazzling smile. “But I will see you tomorrow for another lesson. I’ll try not to hurt you this time.”

I could tell he was not fooled, but he inquired no further, and smiled in parting. Father and I headed home with Gwynna, each lost in our own thoughts. My heart felt numb, and yet in an odd way, relieved that I now knew the score with Sir Guy. He had gone to France, fallen in love with elegant, French Sabine and decided that his lot was better with her. Brutal as it was, it made sense. The class system of our time encouraged it, and she had much more to offer him as a noblewoman. The status and power that he had always craved were a certainty with Sabine’s political connections. As we neared the house, I forced myself to intellectualize the situation, and tried to put my heart’s pain away for the moment.

Dinner was a silent affair. Both of us were emotionally and physically exhausted from the day, so we said little. My eyelids were heavy, as it grew dark. Just as Father was taking his last cup of mead, we heard Aomir’s steady tattoo of hoof beats coming closer to the house. 

Both of us jerked into awareness. Father nodded at the secret room, and I paused. I did not want to hide. Father glared at me, and I sighed and abruptly opened the puzzle door. I entered, and waited for the drama to unfold.

It came very quickly. I heard violent banging on the door and Sir Guy’s roar. “Nyssa! I’ve come for you, and I need to speak with you!”

I heard Father open the door. “Sir Guy, my daughter is not here,” I heard him say. “And if she was I would remind you that you have certainly given me all cause to break off any courtship you once had.”

There was a moment of silence before Sir Guy spoke. “I do not believe you, Master Edan, and I must speak to Nyssa.”

“She is not here, as I said,” Father said, his voice rising. “She went to the Sewards to be comforted by her friend Charmaine.”

“I have already searched that house and found nothing, Master Edan. I have also,” he continued, his voice growing threatening, “searched every other place she would be. I know she is here, and I want to see her.”

My fists clenched in fury. Father answered him, “Sir Guy, I know this be an unusual experience, but you cannot always have what you want. You led my daughter to believe that you loved her and would marry her, then humiliated her. Now I understand you are engaged to a Frenchwoman (I noticed he did not say lady), so I cannot believe you were ever serious about my daughter. Therefore, you have no right to demand that she see you.”

I felt Guy’s rage explode into the room, and heard our evening’s dishes crash to the floor. “I will demand whatever I want!” he thundered. “And I want your daughter here, right now!”

“Get out of my house,” I heard Father say. “You have no right to anything here, unless you buy it, and my daughter is not for sale!”

I then heard Guy overturning chairs, and smashing more crockery. Father was shouting at him to stop, and I could hardly bear it. I then heard Guy grab my father, and zing of his sword being drawn. “Nyssa!” Guy shouted. “If you do not come out, I will arrest your father!”

“Arrest me, then!” Father said. I heard the heavy thud of Guy’s fist on the table, and was afraid my father might be the next recipient of a blow. Looking around the room, I saw the practice sword that Will had lent me, and realized while I was cornered I was not helpless. Guy’s back was to me, and he was still shouting at me to come out. I took the sword, opened the puzzle door, and put the tip to the small of Guy’s back. He froze, immediately releasing my Father. I spoke in a soft but deadly tone.

“Drop your sword.”

He remained completely still, and slowly bent down to do as I asked. I nodded to Father, who picked it up. “Turn around…. slowly.” I said. As he did I held the sword eye level with Guy, and stared him down. He held his hands out to show he was unarmed. I backed him up towards the door, now enjoying the feeling he had always known. “Get out of our house,” I said coldly. 

Slowly, he turned to look over his shoulder at me. “Nyssa—“ he began in a winning, deep tone.

“Merchant’s daughter, please,” I retorted. “I have no name to you anymore.”

“My lady,” he said. “I must speak with you.”

“There is nothing you could say that I would possibly want to hear,” I said. “Leave.”

He turned all the way around, slowly and carefully, his hands still up. “If I leave, I will come back. And I will keep coming back until you hear what I have to say.” 

I knew he would do just as he said, which made me angry. Perhaps it was best to get it over with so he would leave us alone. Sighing, I gestured to the door with my sword. “I will hear you, outside, now. And Father keeps your weapon until I say so.”

“Agreed,” he said, but then appeared perturbed when I followed him outside with my own sword still drawn. “Aren’t you going to leave your weapon inside as well? Knightly conduct dictates that both of disarm.”

“How quickly you forget that I am no knight, and no noble,” I snapped back. “I’m just a merchant’s daughter, so your moralistic upper class rules mean nothing to me.”

Guy sighed and opened the door, slowly walking outdoors while I kept the point of my blade in the small of this back. I followed, and nodded to Father to keep the door slightly open in case I needed his help. Once we were outside, I could only see Guy by moonlight, and I kept my blade trained on him as he turned.

“Speak.”

His eyes, always so enigmatic, swept up and down my figure, coming to rest on the sword in my hand. I could see from the fire in them that he was roused as well as irritated. “When did you learn to handle a blade?”

“Quite likely while you were swiving your bride to be,” I sneered at him. “Is that all?”

“No, that is not all,” Guy whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. He took a step towards me. “Nyssa—“ 

“Damn it, stay back!” I bit out. I took a short swipe at him, and he did as I said. Inwardly I applauded myself. No wonder men love swords, I thought. The sense of control was quite intoxicating.

A combination of anger and admiration played across Guy’s handsome features. “Please.” He spread his hands in a calming gesture. “Put the sword down. I feel as though I’m being interrogated.” He broke into one of his winning smiles, as if nothing had changed for the past two months. This infuriated me.

“You must think me a very great fool, Sir Guy,” I said, “if you believe I will let you within ten yards of me after the other night.”

Guy’s eyes dropped from my stare, and he had the grace to look embarrassed. “Forgive me for that,” he said. “I was…not myself.” He looked back at me then, rakish and dangerous. “But I had not seen …and you…”

“You insulted me on the road and then treated me like a common prostitute last night. You told me that you loved me and wanted to marry me, and now you are engaged to that French slattern. What more needs to be said between us?” I demanded.

“I want you to know that the marriage is not my idea, nor my desire,” Guy cut in. 

“Yet here we are,” I said stonily.

“Listen to me. When I went with Vaisey to France it was to meet with Prince John. I could not tell you or anyone this! I am a Black Knight and bound to him until he is King. Prince John is very displeased with Vaisey’s lack of ability to capture Robin Hood and collect more taxes. John also needed an alliance with France to strengthen his own position against Richard.”

I listened to this with interest. “King, Richard, you mean,” I said.

“King for now,” Guy replied. “Sabine’s uncle is the Ambassador to the King of France. He is well positioned to help us in our war efforts, and his price was a profitable marriage for his daughter. Vaisey would have had her himself, but—“

“But she simply couldn’t resist you. I’m sure you had great sport in charming the knickers off of her,” I finished for him.

“No,” he said ominously. “I did not. I was forced to be in the same room with her while the negotiations were taking place, and she became smitten. It was painful for me. I did not encourage her—“

“You are wasting your breath, Sir Guy,” I said, my sword still trained on him. It was heavy in my arms, and a light sweat had broken out on my brow, but I would not let up.

“I did not encourage her, and I told Vaisey I would not go through with it,” Guy went on. “It came down to John, who needed the alliance. I was to marry her or lose my life.”

“It was my understanding that you were already courting me then.” I said evenly. “Perhaps I misunderstood? You could not have told them this?”

“They would have arrested you and your Father, or worse,” Guy said. “I could not write, because John was suspicious and watched all of my correspondence. I was forced to propose before we came back to England, and I could not imagine how to tell you what had happened at first. The day you saw me on the road, Morrison was watching our conversation, I could not have him know—“

“That you loved a tradesman’s daughter,” I finished. “You damn bloody coward.”

Guy’s eyebrows shot up. “Coward? I thought you would see—“

“That position and power mean more to you than anything else? I see very clearly.”

“They threatened my life, Nyssa!” Guy said. “Would you rather I was dead?”

At this, I involuntarily lowered the sword. My arms were spent. It was an impossible situation, and I felt tears gathering in my eyes. Ever the hunter, Guy saw me let up for a moment and made as if to move towards me, which made me remember Will’s words: Never assume it’s safe.

Exhausted, I managed to raise my blade as he tried to come closer, and he backed away again. “Well, you are most certainly alive, and from what I overheard today, doing your best to impregnate that Sabine. Oh, apologies, Lady Sabine, though she is no lady to me.” My eyes bore into his, demanding he take responsibility for what had been said.

His own gaze stuttered away from me. “I can make no excuse for what you heard today. I have to find a way to make this marriage work, and she is constantly in my shadow.”

“I see,” I said. Now I did lower the sword. His words were protection enough for me to never forget that he was now with another woman. He glanced back to me, his eyes seeming to plead.

“Nyssa, love is not required for the act of procreation.”

“I am aware of this. Only lust is needed. Perhaps you should see a priest.” I turned to the doorway, where Father stood. “Father, hand me his sword. Sir Guy is leaving now,” I said with finality.

Guy’s face was pale and ashen as I handed him his weapon. He immediately sheathed it. I knew he wanted to say more, but thought better of it from the look on my face. “Good bye, Sir Guy,” I said. “I will only expect to see you again when taxes are to be paid. Aomir is waiting.” 

Guy turned to walk to his horse. He looked like a man sentenced to death, caught between disbelief at my reaction and something akin to shame. The stunned look in his eyes almost amused me, as if he had expected to beguile his way back into my life, with no responsibility or explanation of the past two months. I knew he was used to having his way, as a handsome and powerful man, and it seemed impossible to him that this should not have happened. As he mounted Aomir, he glared back down at me.

“Do you really think I will give you up so easily?” he scowled.

“Sir Guy, I think you gave me up the day you left for France and bedded Sabine,” I replied.

Anger leapt into his eyes and his lips tensed. In one of his signature unforeseen moves, he reached out and gripped my hand, holding me so that I could not turn away. He pulled me closer towards him so that my face was next to his, his blue eyes burning with passion.

“I detest Sabine. She is a weak, spoilt child who has always been given everything she wants. This marriage is a political arrangement, nothing more, and I am only doing what’s expected!”

“And as I said,” I replied, gritting my teeth, “I don’t care what’s expected of you in your noble circles. You betrayed my trust, and have no cause to think there is anything more between us!”

Guy’s hand dug into my wrist, and I winced, twisting away from him. “You may think there is nothing more between us, but I will never give you up, Nyssa,” he said, his voice lowering a tone. “Not in this lifetime. Look at me,” he ordered, putting his face close to mine. His gaze held mine steadily, and for a moment I was lost to his words and his sea-colored eyes.

“I love you. I never stopped loving you and I will always love you. I will find a way to win you back, and when I do, I will never be parted from you again.” 

For a moment I was quite lost for words, but quickly recovered. 

“Much fortuity in winning me back from Sabine’s bed, you bastard!” I hissed.

Guy’s face darkened. He released me angrily and spurred Aomir into a gallop. I breathed heavily as I glared after him, wondering how one man could be so detestable and appealing at once. I gripped my sword, trying to decide if I wanted him or Sabine on its sharp tip. Perhaps both of them…


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

After the last few days, I desperately wanted life to return to normal. I had another sword lesson with Will in the afternoon, but Father let me sleep in and come to the market an hour later than usual. It was greatly needed and much appreciated. I decided that it would also be wise to check on the supply of our most valuable clothing in the lily grove, which I had only looked in on once in the last month. For obvious reasons it was painful to go there, but still the best hiding place I had found yet. I made a mental note as I was washing up for the day that this needed to be done in the next few days.

I headed to the market, keeping a sharp out for Sir Guy and any of his guards that might happen by before I took my secret path to the market. I was now very aware that he might take more extreme measures to find out where I was, so I felt it necessary to be painfully conscious of my surroundings at all times, and these days I never traveled anywhere without my practice sword concealed beneath my long cloak.

The morning flew by quickly, with many purchases made by other tradesmen. The positive thing about our business is that everyone needed clothing to stay warm, especially as winter arrived. Hats, cloaks and scarves seemed to fly off of our table as the weather grew colder, and I kept my hands busy with another headdress, one that I planned to wear for my own wedding someday. I tried not to think of that the one I had made for that brat Sabine.

Soon it was two hours past noon, and Father released me to go to Will’s for my lesson. I knew the way and so felt confident walking there by myself, and enjoyed the crisp weather and the bit of damp in the air. It was raining only lightly when I arrived and found Will in the smithy, sparks flying off of a piece of sheet metal that looked familiar. I called out, “Will!”

I had not realized it from my distance, but Will was only wearing his tight fitting breeches and no shirt while he worked, swinging a hammer against the sheet metal. Despite the rain and cold, a light sheen of sweat shone on his muscled upper body, and I had to force myself not to stare. He was very lean, almost coltish, but with strong muscle tone that rippled down his shoulders and back as he swung the hammer again and again. I ran my tongue over my lips, wondering if I should call him again or simply enjoy the sight in front me. I forgot that Will had a keen second sense, and turned to see me staring at him. I blushed as he grinned slowly.

“Spying on me, eh?” he said cheekily. He reached to his left and pulled on a stained shirt, then looked a bit embarrassed. “Sorry if I shocked you. The sleeves get in the way when I’m working. I didn’t realize the time.” He glanced at his work. “It’s your sword. Want to come have a look?”

I nodded, stepping towards the hot forge, and peered inside. Will had cut a pattern to the sharp tip and been filing and hammering away at it. The shaping was beautiful, though unfinished, and I regarded it curiously. “So the hilt will be there,” I said, pointing, “and the end there.”

“Yes, Will said, taking a pair of tongs to pick up the hot metal. “I’m not done crafting the hilt yet. I’d like to make it special, if there’s any request you want to make at this point.”

“Just make it strong,” I said firmly. “Not that you wouldn’t. I’m just more aware that I may need it.”

Will gently laid down the metal and looked at me, concerned. “Sir Guy again?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied. “But Will, you don’t know the whole of it. I haven’t wanted to tell you because I care for you. Sir Guy and I have...a history.” 

It came out of my mouth before knew I was going to say it, and I immediately regretted my words. Will’s eyes grew sharp, anger simmering underneath them. 

“Do you?” he said.

“Yes.”

He considered this for a moment. “This sounds like a conversation to have sitting down, not standing in the rain.”

I waited.

He sighed and indicated the door to the house. “Come in. I have some decent wine inside and I’m going to need it.” I grimaced but politely followed him indoors, and sat at what appeared to be the family table. It was much simpler and cruder than the one at our house, but a fire crackled nearby and the house felt full of good spirits. Will returned, bringing a jug of red wine and two cups. He filled each to the brim and then held his out. “To Sir Guy,” he said, his face unreadable.

“Sir Guy,” I said, feeling odd about this whole toast. I took a good large sip, relishing the taste of the alcohol, and the way it burned a little going down my throat. Will had drunk his whole cup, and reached to fill it again. Before I could take another sip, I stared, watching him drain a second one in front of my eyes. I paused for a moment, then downed my own, deciding that perhaps I didn’t want to be sober for this conversation either. Almost coughing, my eyes watering, I put my cup down to see Will laughing. “Steady now, I’m more practiced at this,” he said. “Though I think two cups will do for the moment.” He breathed out once, deeply. “There. Now say what it is you have to say. The drink will do the rest.”

I felt nervous suddenly, and began plucking at my shift, avoiding his eyes. “Sir Guy and I were…courting.”

Will’s eyes widened. “Courting you? Sir Guy?”

I looked at him crossly. “Am I so repulsive, then?”

“No, no.” Will said quickly. “I had imagined he was trying to win you over in some way, but courting—“

I suddenly felt the need for another cup of wine, and quickly refilled. “I know, it seems utterly impossible, but I swear to you, Will, it is true. He brought gifts every day. He said—“

Will’s eyes looked wounded, but he regarded me clearly. “That he loved you?”

“Yes,” I managed to say. “And I believed him, fool that I am.” I took a great gulp from my glass, and began to feel a curious spinning in my head. “He came back from France with a horrible woman that he’s going to marry. Now he tries to tell me that he does not love her.” I drained the last of my glass, feeling slightly unsteady.

Will regarded me plainly, a smile playing about his lips. “To Sir Guy,” he said, lifting his cup.

I smiled just as ironically. “Sir Guy,” I said. My head was positively spinning now. “And to Will Scarlet, who told me to never assume it’s safe. I think it saved me from being bullied by him again last night.” 

I reached for the wine jug again, but Will’s hand stopped me. “Nyssa, that’s enough,” he said. 

I looked back at him playfully. “Perhaps I want to be drunk,” I said. Along with feeling much warmer, I also felt much more free to act as I wished, and I found myself standing unsteadily. Will looked up at me, concerned, and I noticed how his eyes shone in the firelight and his pulse beat gently in a vein along his neck. Feeling evil, I found myself slowly crossing the distance to Will. I leaned down, touching his cheek affectionately. 

“Perhaps I want…other things as well,” I said.

“Don’t encourage me, Nyssa,” Will said seriously. A fire had come into his hazel eyes and burned there. “Not unless you mean it.”

I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in a long time, and abruptly tipped myself too far to one side. Will reached out to catch me and ended up pulling me into his lap, where I sat, giggling like a simpleton. “You’re quite a flirt, Will Scarlet,” I said, tapping his long nose. “Giving me too much wine and then taking advantage of my state.”

“Oh yes, I’m quite the tease,” Will said, his voice a tone lower. His hands went around my waist. “You should be careful. I might not let you go for a while, either.” His eyes searched me, seeming both inscrutable and knowing at the same time. Despite my lack of inhibition from wine, I tried playfully to squirm away, but he held me there in the strong grip of a metal worker, and gave no quarter. “No, no, I don’t think so,” Will whispered sensually. “You started this game, so you’d best learn to finish it.” 

He reached up gently to touch my face and draw it closer. “Seduction is much like swordplay, you know,” he said softly, tilting my lips to his. “This is just like a sword thrust,” he said, breathing on my mouth. His lips grazed mine before I turned to the left.

“Ah, so that’s your block. So what if I did this in return?” he asked, turning my head back to his, his tongue dancing along my ear. I felt heat rising in my body and flushing my chest as Will’s hands crept up to my shoulders, gently pulling the fabric away from one. “Or this?” he asked, tasting the bare flesh there. I sighed, feeling the heat gathering under my dress as his tongue grazed along my skin. “No defense? Does this mean you surrender to me?”

In answer, I moaned sinfully. I felt an answering hardness grow underneath me and shifted, hearing Will gasp in response. His mouth open, his eyes half closed, he looked remarkably erotic, and I felt myself growing warmer where our bodies touched. I shifted again, feeling his manhood against me, giddy with the control I had over him. Another gasp escaping his lips, Will then seemed to decide this was enough. He abruptly pulled me up to a standing position so that we were face to face and took my head in his hands. 

“Kiss me, Nyssa,” he said. “You know how I’ve wanted this.”

I did. I leaned in and pressed myself against him as he gently explored my mouth with his own. His hands travelled down my neck and shoulders as he did so, wrapping around tendrils of my hair to come back up to my face. I let my hands roam through his hair as well and down his narrow frame. Both of us began breathing heavily as the kiss went on, the wine deep in our heads and bodies. I felt Will grasp me, pulling me against him as he stood, then pressing me down on the table as he began softly assailing my neck and chest. I pulled him closer to me, missing this, missing the feel of a sexy man pressing himself against me, and Will was sexy, gentle and aggressive in a completely different way. His hands travelled down my body, over my breasts to meet between my legs, and I let out a small gasp. I felt him reach beneath my skirts and was surprised by his boldness as he touched my wetness and then took his hand away, staring at me as he ran his tongue down a long finger. 

“Mmm,” he said. “You taste as sweet as those lilies you always smell of.”

The lilies. Now I could not help it; my last private moment with Sir Guy came rushing to the front of my drugged consciousness. I tensed, suddenly far away and remembering how I had experienced the same feelings of euphoria, only to have them end in misery. I saw Will’s hand go back underneath my skirt, and started to resist…but then was under his spell again as he teased my womanhood with a practiced hand, drawing moans out of me. Oh this was torturous…he was really quite skilled…and not only with a blade….

I felt his hand move faster and faster against me and was unable to combat the screaming tyranny of my body. The pleasure rose up in waves from my lower body, cresting and falling until I was nearly there. Will continued his pattern, faster and faster, and just as I was about to arrive…

…Guy’s face intervened, and it was his lips I was imagining against me, his voice I wanted to hear, his burning eyes I wanted to see. I turned, biting my hand, so that Will would not see my reaction and that I could not finish. My body went limp, and I grasped his other hand. 

But Will Scarlet was no fool. He took his hand away from me, and gently covered my legs again, stroking one as he did so. “What happened, lovely? I had thought I was doing rather well,” he said impishly, smiling a bit.

I took a long breath in, then out, and looked up at Will. “I’m sorry. I just haven’t…done that…”

“With me?” he asked.

I looked away. “Yes, with you.” I answered tonelessly.

“But you did that with him?” Will said, his voice a bit cold. “And it went better, I can tell.”

Stung, I sat up and swung myself off the table. “I should go. This was all a mistake. I’m sorry, Will. I had too much to drink.” I tried to smooth my skirts and my hair before Will gently blocked me. 

“Nyssa, this was not a mistake. It is the most wonderful thing that could have ever happened. Don’t blame the drink; I know it was more than that,” I knew it too, but was afraid to admit it. 

“Forgive my jealousy; it enrages me to think of him touching you. He’s unworthy,” Will said, cupping my face in his hands. “Please don’t go, lovely. I never want you to be ashamed or hurt when you are with me. You know my feelings for you, and they are stronger than ever.”

I took Will’s hand and attempted a smile. “It’s only that I don’t want be caught up if I’m not myself from drink, and I have no wish to hurt you either. You’ve been so kind to me.” I tried to brush past him, but was stopped by his words.

“Then let me prove that neither of us needs drink for me to care for you and give you pleasure,” Will said. “Nyssa, I want you to come back—“

“I will come again for a sword training lesson, Will,” I said carefully, still holding his gaze. “You don’t have to prove anything else to me.”

“If I win our first sparring tomorrow, then you must give me the chance,” he answered persistently. “If you win, then…you decide what you want.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “You always win,” I said churlishly.

“Exactly! But I know you will practice now,” he winked at me, caressing my cheek.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

“What do you do when you want to make love with someone but know you shouldn’t?”

Charmaine looked up at me, surprised. “Marry him, of course,” she answered, then broke into a gale of laughter. I glared at her but couldn’t help smiling.

It had been an age since we had had a proper visit. Elena and Simon had been delighted to see me, and I had played with and entertained them both most of the morning. I had desperately missed Elena’s sweet face and childlike wonder about the world, which was only marched by her canine companion’s. The two of them had gone into the back yard to play in the snow and wrestle each other, so I now had more than a moment alone with Charmaine. The subject of my question had arisen after telling her the events of the past few months, which I had hinted at but never had a chance to fully explain. 

“So now Scarlett is your suitor,” Charmaine continued. “He’s a good man, Nyssa. Far better than Gisborne, or at least the way he’s treated you.” She raised an eyebrow. “Though you should know, Guy still gives us tax relief, and has done so for other families as well.”

I rolled my eyes. “Gisborne is impossible to understand, so I have stopped trying,”

“I’m still not clear about whether it was he or Scarlett you were referring to earlier,” she said playfully.

I glared at her. “I’m not dignifying that with a response. You know that I won’t have anything more to do with Gisborne, and he’s marrying someone else, anyway.”

“Scarlett, then?”

“I haven’t seen Will in a while.” I replied. It was true. Ever since our last meeting, I had avoided him at market days and refused to come for another sword lesson. I didn’t trust myself with him.

“Well, you best speak with him again soon,” she said. “John says he’s been meeting up with Robin Hood again in the forest, and he had quit that band of men since you started courting. That lot is dangerous. I admire their bravery, but I fear it will be the death of them.”

“So my choice is to save Will from death by marrying him?” I asked Charmaine, giggling. “It could be a worse fate for him.”  
“Hardly worse than yours with Gisborne,” she countered. 

I shrugged. “I suppose so.”

“Have you seen Gisborne lately?” Charmaine asked. I shook my head. “I’ve been avoiding both of them, honestly,” I confessed. “I’ve been traveling earlier than usual and using hidden paths.”

“He came by yesterday to collect from us,” she said, and began to rummage in a nearby drawer. “Nyssa, he looks terrible. He’s very gaunt and haggard, and there’s no light in his eyes. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.” She paused. “But then I think he saw the pity in my eyes. He said that if I saw you, I should give you this.”

My eyebrows shot up. It was a letter, on very fine paper, and bore the Gisborne crest. I was surprised he had taken the time to write me anything, since most of my social rank could not read. I had only learned a little reading and writing so that I could do Father’s accounts, but had never told Guy. Perhaps he had found out somehow. It would be like him.

I extended my hand and slowly took the letter. “Did you read it?” I asked Charmaine.

“Never learned,” she replied, shrugging. “He asked me if I could read and when I told him no, that was when he gave it to me.”

I felt my heart beat quickly. What could he want now? My fingers shook nervously as I pulled the wax from the paper, afraid I would rip the letter in half. Charmaine came close to me, and took my hand. “Read it out loud,” she said.   
“Then you won’t feel alone with whatever it says.”

I took a breath. “The first part is some kind of poem,” I said, reading,  
“Your two eyes will slay Me suddenlY  
I may Not the beautY of them Sustain,  
As this tortuouS beauty rejects my Ardent heart.” 

I paused, unable to go on for a moment. I was certain that Guy had not written this but was surprised that he had taken the time to copy it for me. I went on reading,

“My lady,   
I can make no excuses for my actions towards you. There are none to give, nor do I have the right to beg your pardon. Know that all of this weighs heavy on my heart, and my heart always brings me to your door. I ask you to meet with me, as I have a proposal to offer to you. You may bring a chaperone if you wish, to Gisborne Manor when you receive this letter. I hope that you will remember happier times with what is enclosed, and come for the memory of those, if nothing else. I remain yours, always,  
GG”

I turned the last fold of the letter over, and found the pressed and dried lily in its cradle. My breath caught, and the letter fell from my hands. The memory of that afternoon came so suddenly, as he had known it would, of course. I closed my eyes, every fiber of my being humming with the remembrance of his eyes, his vulnerability to me, and his words of love. My vision swam with unshed tears. I turned to Charmaine. 

“Burn it,” I said.

She glanced at me before she bent to pick up the letter. “Will you go?”

“No,” I said, shakily. “It’s all nonsense anyway. He’s committed to his current course. In any real manner, I mean less than nothing to him.”

“I would agree with you,” Charmaine said, “if I hadn’t seen him myself. He is suffering greatly, Nyssa.” She sighed and moved towards the fire with the letter in her hand.

“Wait,” I said. “You can burn the letter, but…I want to keep the flower.”

“Keep it all, Nyssa,” Charmaine said. “I don’t want to see you or anyone else suffer for the sake of killing a memory. I don’t want to destroy that.” She glanced at me. “Are you sure you won’t go?”

“I’m not sure of anything right now,” I said, as she handed me the letter and I saw the dried lily, so delicate and beautiful, inside. “But if I do go, I know exactly who I would ask to accompany   
me. ” 

I glanced at the letter again, noticing for the first time that poem had capitalizations that had been oddly chosen. While spelling was certainly not standardized, most capital letters occurred at the beginning of nouns, where here they happened randomly...until I noticed a pattern.

He had spelled out my name in the poem, the name I told him never to use again.

My Nyssa.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

“Will! Wiiiiill!” I called out, breaking into a short run. Since I had stopped coming to our sword lessons, Will had been very cool with me when he had been at the black market, which was rare lately. This is the first I had seen him in a week and a half. He glanced up when he saw me hurrying over to his stall, and looked perturbed as he lifted up a pile of heavy metal work. “Nyssa, I’m really quite busy,” he said, refusing to look at me.

“Too busy to talk with a paying customer?” I said charmingly. He continued lifting another pile on top of the one he had placed in his stall, and replied, 

“Customers usually like to see their finished products. You haven’t come by to see yours in two weeks.” This pile of metal parts clanged down angrily on the one below it, one poker unsettling itself and pinching down on Will’s finger. He started, hissing with pain, and glowered at me. “This is why I don’t talk to people when I’m handling sharp objects.”

“Oh Will, you were handling a sharp object the day you insisted on meeting me,” I said winningly. “And now you don’t have a moment to spare?”

“On the contrary,” Will said drily, “I think you’re the one without a moment to spare.” 

I heard the hurt in his voice, and immediately reached for his hand. He looked up at me, unsure of my next move. I gently took his hand and kissed the finger that had been injured, looking back at him. Will seemed momentarily placated, but then turned from me again.

“Well, that’s a long way from explaining why you stopped speaking to me or coming to lessons, but I suppose it’s a start,” he said, sounding weary.

“Do you have time to walk with me this afternoon?” I asked, pressing on.

“I have to work, Nyssa, and then I’m to meet Hood afterwards. There are some political changes at hand, not that you would know.”

His words pricked me, and I slowly began to turn away. I supposed it was only fair. I had been avoiding him, and now that I needed him I was acting just as Sir Guy had. Feeling sad nonetheless, I started back to my own stall, and said, “Of course, I understand, Will. You made a commitment, and you should keep it.”

He made no reply, so I kept to myself for the rest of the afternoon. I saw Will leave two hours later, heading resolutely towards the forest. He neither spoke to me nor acknowledged my presence as he passed our stall, but called out to Father, “Master Edan, if you would like, you may take delivery of the sword. I have finished it.”

Perplexed, Father called back, “I’m sure that’s lovely, Will…I’ll arrange it as soon as I can.” He glanced quizzically at me, and I shrugged. “Hood,” I said. 

Father nodded. We continued our usual business through the rest of the afternoon until about four of the clock, though most of our best goods already had been sold, as winter was truly at its zenith. I had been making mittens and scarves that were almost always sold out in the first few minutes after we arrived, so there was little else to sell today. It had begun to rain, and while we had our small stall roof, the cold made the damp go straight to our bones. Father shivered. 

“Shall we end early today?” he asked me. I nodded eagerly and we quickly packed the small items into the satchel on Gwynna’s back. She nickered softly and butted her wet head against my cloak, letting me know that she was eager to go back to the warm barn and attempt to steal Jemma’s alfalfa. I chuckled softly and stroked her large, donkey-sized ears. Father led her forward and down the secretive path, which eventually took us into the forest and out through the main road past Nottingham. As we walked, I heard the sound of trumpet heralds call, and then saw a crowd gathering in the main square of the town.

“Father, stop,” I said, looking anxiously over my shoulder. We turned and Gwynna waited, less patiently now, since the rain was a downpour. The three of us walked over to join the crowd, and I as I watched, Vaisey, the Sherriff of Nottingham appeared, mounted on his big black steed and followed by two sets of guards. His eyes flashed malevolently at the waiting crowd. In another moment, he was followed by Sir Guy on Aomir and Lady Sabine on her white mare. I could vaguely hear her complaining under her breath as Vaisey surveyed the scene in front of him.

“Mon chere, I simply do not see why I have to be here in this wet and cold. My frock will be ruined!” Sabine whispered petulantly.

“Because you are to be Lady Gisborne, and a lady presents herself in times such as these!” I head Guy hiss back at her.

“Quiet, both of you wretches, “ Vaisey snarled at them. Turning around he smiled winningly at the crowd. His smile was the most terrifying thing I have ever seen.

“People of Nottingham, my dear, devoted subjects!” he began theatrically. “We your lords and masters, have been summoned from our warm hearths this evening to bring you a message. Can you imagine it? We, are summoned to you?” He extended his hand, before clenching it into a fist. “I ask you. So heed it well, as I plan to be back in Nottingham Castle before nightfall. Gisborne?” He threw this back at Guy, who reluctantly strode forward on Aomir, and like Vaisey, surveyed the waiting crowd. His face was pale and solemn, and his eyes found mine as he said in his deep baritone,

 

“The King is dead. Long live the King.”

A ripple of gasps went through the crowd and my own mouth fell open. Guy’s eyes flicked away from mine, then back again. I heard voices around me stuttering in confusion. “King Richard?” “No, it cannot be!” “How can this have happened?”

“How indeed,” Vaisey said, grinning from ear to ear. “It seems a mouse has felled your mighty lion, with an arrow of all things. Some say,” he said gesturing to the forest, ”that it might even have been your own Robin Hood that’s done it. Clever thief!” he said, cackling. I heard Vaisey then begin one of his long speeches, which always ended up glorifying himself, so I mentally shut him off. My eyes wandered back towards Guy, who looked at me and held my shocked expression with his own steady gaze. He nudged Aomir towards Father and I. Still disbelieving, I stepped forward.

“Is it really true?” I asked him.

“It is.” Guy’s eyes were deeply serious as I regarded him. Charmaine had been right. He had lost weight, circles were drawn under his beautiful eyes and his handsome face seemed drawn. “I regret that I must bring this news to you. You knew my feelings for Richard, but to lose a King is a grave day for England.” He looked back at Sabine, who was shooting daggers at me, before he leaned down and whispered,

“Did you receive my letter?”

“Yes,” I answered.

A shadowy smile flitted onto his features. “Will you come, then?” 

“Guy!” Sabine shrilled, urging her horse forward. Guy’s face clouded and his brow looked thunderous as she whined at him, “I am freezing! Why are you consorting with les cochons?” I needed no translation to know she had called me an insulting name. He shot a look of fury at her.

“I was asking Master Edan and his daughter Nyssa, “ he spat, “if they had finished your cloak yet. It appears there has been some holdup at the dyer, yes?” His eyes pleaded with me to answer, but Father stepped in seamlessly.

“Yes, Lady Sabine. Our deepest apologies to you and Sir Guy. Our dyer is quite unable to work for the rest of the winter, until the weather is warmer. His vats have frozen through and he cannot work under these circumstances.”

“Ah, merde,” Sabine replied. “In Paris, we have fires to keep them warm year round in a large building. Nothing is ever late.”

“You are in Nottingham now, not Paris, my lady,” I said, regarding her innocently. Sabine’s mouth opened in shock at this insolence, but I saw a familiar smirk tug at the corner of Guy’s mouth.

“Of course the wedding will have to be postponed now, with the news of the King’s death, so this should not be much of an inconvenience, “ Guy remarked casually, glancing at me again. 

“Pouquoi, mon beau?” Sabine whined, pulling at Guy’s arm. “I want you to give me a child soon…”

“It is not appropriate to make merry or to be married during a time such as this,” Guy said in a low voice. I admired his respect, though I knew he had no great love for Richard. Some rumored that he had attempted to kill the King himself, but perhaps he had changed his politics since then.

“Perhaps my lady would prefer to have a summer cloak later on in the year rather than one like my own, “ I suggested. 

“You rotten little pig,” Sabine snapped at me. “I didn’t ask you anything! I would have my fiancé take the cloak you’re wearing right now, if you had not make it stink first.”

“My apologies, my lady, I sad, curtseying low. “I am so very flattered that you like my cloak and want one for yourself. It is new to me that anyone of your class should want what is mine” here I shot a smart look at Guy, “but I shall accustom myself to the idea.”

“I don’t want what is yours,” Sabine sniffed. “You are a work animal, a donkey, just like your mount. You have no royal blood,” Her eyes narrowed cruelly. “My horse is a purebred Arabian mare, prized by Saladim himself. My fiancé is the lord of these lands. He is like a proud stallion.” She made eyes at and then reached out for Guy, who was motionless. Then he turned as she held out her hand to him. He regarded it, and made no move to touch her, his eyes becoming hard.

“That is a mule, Sabine, not a donkey. It’s the offspring of a female horse and a male ass.” Guy’s razor sharp stare fell back on me, and I held it, if only to annoy Sabine. “And no female is ever safe from a determined male.” 

“GISBORNE!!!” Vaisey’s shrill call jerked Guy back into awareness, and he clicked Aomir away from us and back to the Sheriff. Sabine shot me another wilting glance and flounced after him, pulling her cloak around her with exaggerated moves against the cold.

Father remained still for a moment, watching them ride away. “Well, I must admit, his behavior toward you was much more like a knight than it was to his fiancée.”

I hid a small smile. “One wonders if he won’t bayonet her before the wedding day,” I snickered. 

“I would volunteer for that job,” Father said darkly. “What a soft, preening wench she is. Lady Sabine, indeed!” he huffed, then cocked an eye at me. “What was all that about a letter?”

“Oh nothing, “ I said nervously, my hands twisting in my cloak, but Father put his arm on mine I could see he would not be put off. “Father, he apologized for his treatment of me. He asked me to meet with him at Gisborne Manor and said I could bring a chaperone if needed.”

“It certainly is needed!” Father shot back. “And I will be going with you!”

“I’m still unsure if I will go or not,” I replied. “But if I do, I will ask Will to be my chaperone.”

“Is that wise?” Father asked after a beat.

“Probably not,” I answered. “But if I ask and Will refuses, I will know his true nature. If I bring him to meet Sir Guy, I will also know Sir Guy’s true nature. No matter what, I will have the answers I need.”


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

The long winter that had lasted through February and now early March seemed to finally begin loosening its hold on the land. In the last few days, the bitterly cold air began to soften a bit, though all still went about in cloaks and capes, and many in black. The village had been quiet with mourning since King Richard’s death. I later heard that the crossbowman who had killed him was only a boy and had done so because Richard had killed the boy’s father and two brothers in battle in Limousin. Vaisey had gotten the epithet wrong; it came to be said that be that this crossbowman, known by various names, was “the Ant that slew a Lion”. Richard’s last act of chivalry had been to forgive the boy and set him free with one hundred shillings. Much good it had done him though, as one of Richard’s captains had flayed him alive and hanged him after Richard’s death.

Guy seemed quite changed since King Richard’s death, but then, we all were. I had seen little of him since the announcement, but when I did, he appeared pensive and inward, as opposed to his usual moody self. Perhaps it was the final act of forgiveness by the King that had given him pause; he may have wondered if he too would have been spared, had he been caught in his own attempt on Richard’s life. Perhaps it was also the fact that his alliance with John made his position secure in the political world outside of Nottingham.

As for me, I worried what would become of my social class with John’s coronation. It was well known that he was a selfish, posturing man who had coveted the crown even before Richard’s death. I could not understand Guy’s alliance to him, but then, we had not spoken of politics since his journey to France. Most of my social class was in a sort of mourning, even if it was not imposed by the Sheriff who no doubt was dancing on the rooftops with glee. We all feared for the future and I saw even less of Will at the market than before. At least I now knew why.

The next rare day that he was there, I sought him out. He still made a studious effort to avoid me, but I caught him stealing away to chop wood for later transport to the Scarlett house. I followed him a little ways away from the market to where he was hard at work, and watched for a few moments, as he was lovely to view when working. As he took the next swing at the wood, I remarked,

“Goodness, Will, I would think that that birch has King John’s name on it.”

Will looked up at me and spat to his left. “John is no King, not to me. If anyone’s the rightful heir, it’s his nephew Arthur, even if he is allied with the French.” He returned to his mangling of the wood.

I inhaled. “Will…I would really like to speak with you about something.”

“And there are several things I’d really like to speak to you about,” Will muttered back, chopping down hard on the birch.

“Well then, speak, please,” I said, my hands spread plaintively. “This silence is torture for me.”

“Torture? No. You don’t now what torture is, Nyssa,” Will said almost tenderly. He stopped chopping, looked at the wood, and then abruptly dropped the axe. “Torture is loving someone who doesn’t love you back.” He looked away from me so that I could not see his eyes, and I fought the instinct to go to him, because I knew it would make him angry. 

“I never said that I didn’t love you,” I responded quietly.

“And you never said that you did,” he said, picking the axe back up and starting to chop angrily again. “Obviously,” he slammed down the axe, “you don’t care for me,” (slamming again) “or you would have come back to me. So tell me, Nyssa,” (another crack) “what exactly do you want?”

“I want you to stop mangling that poor tree when it’s me you want to mangle,” I said steadily. “I want you to shout at me if you’re angry at me. I want you to communicate with me!” 

Will turned, losing his temper. “I’d like to do all of that, and more!” he shouted, dropping the axe and heading towards me. His hazel eyes were an amber rage. He stopped and stood in front of me, face inches from mine, his voice deadly low. “I do want to mangle you for abandoning me, and then I want to bind up your wounds myself. I want break you, and I want to make love to you until you cry my name and lose every memory you have of Gisborne. I want to protect you from anything that would hurt you. And I want you in my bed tonight, and every night for the rest of my life.” 

I nearly gasped at his outpouring of emotion, when Will was nearly always so mild-mannered and calm. I reached out to touch him, and he abruptly pulled away from me.

“But I won’t take charity, Nyssa,” he said coldly, turning back towards the wood. 

Hurt, I shot back, “That’s fortunate, because I don’t give charity.”

Will whirled around. “Was it charity when Gisborne had you up against the tavern wall?” he snapped. 

“Oh, you bastard,” I said angrily. “You know he was drunk and not in his own mind!”

“I’m sure you were very disappointed when I arrived to defend your honor,” Will said ominously. “To hell with Gisborne! Oh but I forgot, you like men like Gisborne, dangerous men, men who take what they want. They deserve your charity, while I get none. Maybe I’ll just take what I want too, then!”

His quickness always took me by surprise. He was so light and lean that he had dropped the axe and pressed me against a nearby tree before I could object. The bark was icy cold on my back in the chill March air, and I squeaked in surprise. Will held my face in his hands, forcing me to look in his eyes. “I know you don’t love me,” he said. “But I ‘m gong to make you love me.” 

He pressed his lips against mine, in a strong but un-savage kiss, and his fingers tangled in my hair, wrapping against the roots so that there were tingles of sensation on my scalp. I inhaled sharply as he unclasped my cloak and the weather invaded my body, goose bumps erupting everywhere, my nipples erect. Seemingly oblivious, Will pulled my head back by my hair to lengthen my neck, and began kissing his way down it, his lips hot against my now cool skin. I tried to push him away with my hands, but he thrust them aside, not wanting me to touch him. Fine then, I thought. I went limp as a rag doll and turned away from him, seeming to give in. Furious, Will clenched my hair harder in his fingers. He tore his mouth from my throat and whispered, 

“Aren’t you going to fight me? Where is your famous spirit, Nyssa?”

“I’m not going to fight you, Will,” I said softly, “because I love you.”

His eyes were angry, disbelieving. “Prove it,” he scowled.

I angled my head towards him and kissed his cold, incredulous face, his cheeks, his unyielding lips. His rigidness lasted only for a moment though; Will’s hands loosened from my scalp and plunged into my hair, raining punishing kisses on my face. His hand slipped down to grip my shoulder under the fabric of my dress as he had before, and possessively caress the skin there. “God I want you so much,” he murmured, his voice low and serious. “I want to make you forget anyone but me.” His lips travelled down my neck, and his hand slid boldly into the front of my bodice to cup one of my breasts, teasing the nipple until I gasped. “Did he do this to you?” Will said roughly, his breath scorching my ear, his touch infinitely gentle. 

“Yessss…” I whispered, not wanting him to stop.

“And here?” He cupped my other breast, kneading fiercely.

“Oh! Yes.”

“And here?” With the most loving skill, he pulled my skirts up, and pressed himself against me so I felt his hardness. “Did he do this too?” His eyes burned, demanding an answer.

“Yes.”

“And this?” Will breathed heavily, and I felt him make a small move to slip out of the top of his breeches. Trembling from excitement, I felt him place the length of his manhood against my sex and felt the soft touch of the tip. He nudged forward, teasing us both, allowing his hardness to graze my entrance. I inhaled sharply. “This too?”

I turned and held his gaze. “No.” 

“No?” Will’s look of surprise cut me to the core, and he immediately stopped himself, almost looking ashamed. Flushing deeply, he let go of me and readjusted his body and clothing to a more appropriate position. His look was curious, skeptical. 

“Sir Guy…he didn’t bed you?”

“No, he did not,” I answered honestly. “I asked him to stop. He honored my request. I told him I would carry his child but only if we married and only if I would remain a respected, honorable tradeswoman.”

If Will had looked ashamed before, he now looked positively mollified. He couldn’t meet my eyes for a few seconds, before he swallowed, a click in his throat. “I’m sorry, Nyssa,” he said. Then he looked back up at me, hazel eyes imploring. “I’m so sorry, lovely. I completely misjudged you and the situation. I was mad with jealousy when you left. I…thought you had gone to him.”

He stepped back from me, and quickly picked up my cloak to wrap it around my shoulders, and then me in his arms as well. “Will, it’s all right,” I said. “It’s a natural assumption to make. I should have told you. I just needed time…and I was afraid,” I finished, lamely. I hated admitting this to him, but I knew I must. “And yes, I’m sorry, but danger is exciting to me. I’m not sorry, actually. You adore swordplay, so I’m not apologizing to you for my love of danger. I don’t mind being slammed against a wall or a tree, now and again.” My chin raised, I dared him to argue with me over this, but he abruptly broke into a gale of laughter.

“Nyssa, you must be the most cracked woman I know,” Will said, still laughing. Then: “I suppose that’s why I can’t stay away from you.” He leaned over and kissed me quickly, a sweet, tender kiss that had nothing to take or prove. As he did, I caressed his cheek with my finger. I felt him tense a bit, then quip,

“I’m waiting for you to stomp on my foot. You could have done that, you know.”

“And does it mean anything to you that I didn’t? “ I asked him cheekily.

“I’m afraid to hope,” Will said, cautious. “Does this mean you’ll come for your sword and lessons after all?”

“Yes, I will come,” I said. “And I have a favor to ask of you as well.”

“I’ll think about whatever it is if you kiss me again,” he said softly, regarding me with that disquieting intensity. 

I smirked at him. “You know, you and Gisborne have more in common than you think. Always trying to get the upper hand.”

“As long as I’ve fooled you into thinking that I do have the upper hand, I’m happy with the result,” he said. “But I’m still waiting for that kiss.” He raised an eyebrow at me and stepped forward, his long hair falling over his brow. His eyes were kind, gentle, and full of love for me. I hesitated for a moment, then wrapped him in my embrace and kissed him, really kissed him, without my usual reserve and habit of holding back. Will felt it too, and pulled me into a tighter embrace than he ever had, almost making me squeal for breath as he tenderly explored my mouth, and held me close to him. After a few minutes, he gently broke away from me and smiled again. “Why couldn’t we have started this way?” he asked me. “Oh, yes. I remember. You almost opened my throat the first time I said hello.”

“The first time you compared me to a dead woman, you mean,” I said teasingly. “It’s not the ideal way to win a woman’s heart, Will.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that I’ve done so badly,” Will replied, grinning. The cheek on him, I thought. It would have been irritating had he been any less charming. “So what is this favor you need?” he asked.

“Please hear me out before you get angry, because it does involve Gisborne.”

The smile fell away from Will’s face. “I see.”

“It’s not what you think,” I said quickly. “He sent me a letter apologizing for his behavior towards me. I actually think it was sincere, Will. And he asked me to meet with him at Gisborne Manor, and that I should bring a chaperone, if I wished.” I took another breath. “I want you to come with me.”

Emotions stormed across Will’s face in a battle of determination. “So you are asking me to defend your honor a second time while you have a private meeting with your former fiancé,” Will said slowly, as he made a concerted effort to stay calm.

“Yes.”

He sighed deeply, saying nothing for a moment. Then he turned back to me, a slow, fiendish smile crossing his face. “Then I say yes. But Nyssa…surely you don’t imagine he simply wants to have you in for a chat.”

“I really don’t know what he wants,” I said evenly, “but I do know that if I don’t go, he will keep harassing me until I do. That is his way. So I would like to hear whatever it is that he has to say and to have you at my side when I do.”

“So I am your chaperone?” 

“No,” I answered. “You are my Will.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Mary and Jo, lovely faithful readers, who I hope will be pleased with how much of Guy is in this chapter, along with some political intrigue, and more to come!! Thanks for your feedback!

CHAPTER 20

“We are here to see Sir Guy,” I said calmly to the Thornton, Guy’s houseman. Will and I stood together, holding hands, at the door to Gisborne Manor. We had spent the morning as usual at the black market and decided that this afternoon was the right time to address Sir Guy about what his letter meant. I hadn’t seen Guy since the announcement of King Richard’s death and now that we were here I suddenly found myself quite nervous. As I addressed Thornton, I was aware that I was so nervous my knees were shaking, but I made sure that my voice was calm, and looked at him expectantly.

“Is he expecting you?” Thornton asked kindly.

“I do not believe so, but if he is here, I would like to see him. He asked for me in this letter.” I handed the letter to Thornton, who merely glanced at the seal, and then gestured that we should enter.

It was a beautiful space, full of air and light, though many of the windows had been shuttered. I could not imagine having so much space to move about in, and the look on Will’s face indicated that he was having a similar reaction. Thornton indicated that we should sit at the table in the dining room, one of the largest I had ever seen. I did as he bade me, but Will shook his head and stood behind me, leaning against the wall. He was very quiet and focused, which I found soothing in my current state of nerves. I took a deep breath as I heard Thornton calling to Guy, and then the sound of Guy’s panther like footsteps coming down the stairs and closer to us.

He entered the room at a fast pace, quicker than I had expected, and I stood hastily to show my respect. As our eyes met, his body seemed to take a long breath out, and tension in his shoulders and back flowed out of him like water. Despite looking thinner and slightly disheveled, he was still so beautiful. His astonishing blue eyes were set off by a dark purple, loose fitting shirt that framed his huge shoulders, his long legs sheathed in his usual tight black leather. By sheer height, he dwarfed both Will and I, and his step slowed at he reached the table. The entire space was still and Guy seemed oblivious to anything but my presence. His eyes caressed me, warm and tender, and a worn smile came to his lips. 

“You came.”

I swallowed. “Yes.” For a moment, we simply stared at one another, until Will coughed visibly and glared at Guy.

Guy’s eyes darkened. “Why did you bring the boy with you? I was expecting your father.”

“Sir Guy, you said I could bring a chaperone. It is my choice to bring Will, as he has some experience with defending me from you, if needed.” I hated my rough words, but knew that they must be said. Will watched Guy with a look of warning, and Guy scowled back.

“He can’t be here when I speak to you,” Guy said. “He has to leave. This is a private matter.”

“Will is my confidant in all things,” I replied smoothly. “Whatever you have to say, he will keep in the strictest of confidence.”

“Your confidant?” Guy said sharply. His eyes flicked to Will, glowering. “Why do I suspect that he is more than that?”

“Because I am,” Will replied, still leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “You gave her up, Gisborne. You can’t expect her to mourn for you while you marry another.”

“You keep silent!” Guy roared. I saw his hand move towards his sword, and reached out to stop him. 

“Please, no violence here, not now. You said you wished to speak with me. I have come to hear your words, not argue about the past. Please tell me what it is that you have to say, or we will leave.”

Guy’s hand slowly dropped to his side, and he prowled, catlike, to sit in one of the chairs at the table. As he had in Morrison’s shop, he slung himself into it, draping one leg over the side. His regard had gone from warm to suspicious as he looked at me. I also seated myself, directly across from him, and kept my back straight so that I could control my breathing. My heart was pounding from emotion; how could I have thought that it was a good idea to have them both in the same room? It was too late now to turn back, so I looked up at Sir Guy, searching his face. “Please tell me what you need to say,” I encouraged him.

His blue eyes held my gaze, and he sighed. “I am here to ask you, “ he said, “if you would be a courier and a translator for me.”

Taken aback, I said. “I don’t understand.”

“There are vast political changes afoot, “ Guy said seriously, now sitting up in the chair. “As you now know, Richard is dead. Prince John has a rival for his claim to the throne in his nephew, Arthur of Brittany, who is allied with King Philip II of France. Both of them are set to overtake John’s lands in Normandy, and both are attempting to do so from opposite ends of the territory. It does not currently sit well for John in France and he must keep and expand his terrain there if he is to remain King.”

My mouth fell open. This was highly sensitive political information, and the fact that Guy would share it with a commoner such as myself showed that he trusted me deeply. Or he was truly desperate --- perhaps both. I searched his face for any sign of a prank or teasing, but there was none. His eyes were grave and severe as he continued. 

“We have correspondents in France---“

“Spies,” Will broke in, pulling a face.

“Correspondents,” Guy silenced him with a look, “who will send word to us of the next military move by Philip or Arthur, but they cannot write simple letters that could be intercepted and discovered. I am acting as John’s correspondent here and I will bring him news of anything I can find. He has chosen me because of my noble birth but relative anonymity in Philip’s court.”

“Then why do you need me?” I asked, still not understanding.

“Regardless of my somewhat anonymous status, John insists that we be very careful, as I have a French fiancé with political connections. He planned to send the letters though Sabine initially, but now no longer trusts the French.”

A grim smile spread across my face. “And was it not John who insisted on the match?”

“Yes,” Guy bit out, obviously angry. “He did. At the moment, it seemed politically sound, but alliances change like the wind now. I am still expected to wed her once the mourning period is over, or John will certainly make an enemy of the French. But he will only trust an Englishman to carry these messages.”

“Or an English woman,” I said.

“And you could not have placed this burden on another villager?” Will said quietly, glancing at Guy.

Guy glared back. “She is the only person that I trust in this village who can read. I do not trust anyone else’s heart as I do hers.”

I breathed in rapidly, feeling that very heart ache at his words. I refused to look at him in that moment, for Will’s sake. “What must I do?” I asked.

“You will receive letters from our correspondents that you must memorize and immediately burn. Then you must recite their contents back to me so that I can inform John.”

“And she is to do this out of the goodness of her heart?” Will asked casually.

“No, she will be paid, and paid well---“ Guy snapped, then said to me, “Why does he continuously blather on?”

“Because he cares for my safety,” I replied sweetly.

Guy rose and immediately reached across the table to put his hand over my arm. “I will let no harm come to you,” he said deeply. “I will have armed guards near your home and person at all times, or I will come myself.”

“How convenient,” Will said testily. “Nyssa is never to have a moment’s peace, to risk her life for a possible payment, and to have incessant contact with you. And this is all to help a tyrant rise to a throne that may very well not be his.” Arms still crossed, Will glared at Guy with true hatred in his eyes. 

“Be careful what you say, Scarlett,” Guy growled. “That is treason, or will be soon.”

“Then I happily count myself among the Sherwood forest outlaws of Robin Hood,” Will shot back. He peeled himself away from the wall and jerked his head at me. “Come, Nyssa,” he said. “We are leaving this foul company.”

I looked up at Will and kept my gaze steady, though my hand was still trembling. Guy had not yet released my arm, and his fingers tightened ever so gently on it as Will waited for me. I took a deep breath. “Will, this is my choice, and not yours.” 

Will’s eyes widened. “Nyssa!” he exclaimed. “You can’t be serious about doing this! You’re aiding a madman and a royal despot! After all of these years, you can’t possibly side with John; he cares nothing for the people as Richard did!” He searched my face, desperate. I forced myself to remain calm as I spoke.

“Will, my choices are my own. If I choose to help, it will be to help England, and the King I think will rule it best, not make it a vassal to France.”

A strangled noise came out of Will’s mouth. “And you think that is John?”

“I think it is not Arthur,” I replied. “If he has allied himself with Philip, Arthur has agreed to be his vassal. Do you honestly think Philip will allow him to keep all of his French lands? That he won’t try to take them for his own, and eventually all of England too?” I asked. “Do you want to start speaking French, Will? Because I do not.”

Will’s expression was like granite carved onto his handsome face. A muscle throbbed in his cheek as he clenched his teeth, glaring at me, unbelieving that I would disagree with him on this issue. I felt his anger come at me in waves, ready to explode. 

“Perhaps you should wait outside, Will,” I said. “I do not wish to fight about this. Please just take a moment and wait for me.”

Incredulity spread across Will’s features before they wrinkled into a scowl. Still glaring, Will stormed towards the door, nearly knocking Thornton over, who had just brought a plate of fruit into the room. I heard the front door slam angrily and winced. Guy’s eyes flicked from the door to me, and to his hand on my arm, which he had not moved. If anything, I felt his warm fingers begin to caress my arm gently. I stiffened, starting to pull away.

“Wait.” Guy released me, then walked around the side of the table, and knelt down next to me so that our height was more equal. He took my hand again and stroked it with his thumb, looking at me gently. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

I could not remember a time, even in our previous relationship, when he had thanked me for anything. My hand shook a bit, and I looked back at him. “I do this for England, not for you,” I said.

“Can you not still love me, even a little?” he asked, drawing closer, his hand at my shoulder. His beautiful eyes pleaded with me, and I could not look away. “My feelings for you have not changed. They never will.”

“Then you will torture yourself with this assignment,” I said sadly.

“Oh, no,” Guy said his voice soft and gentle. “I will make this wretched life more bearable. And I will assist my King.”

“If you are so devoted to your King, then I have additional terms of payment, Sir Guy,” I said. Guy’s eyes widened, looking interested, and devilish in their usual way. “Yes, my lady?”

“My terms,” I said delicately, “are that you continue to give tax relief to the five families you have been kind to for two more years. And I want a two year tax relief for five more families, including the Scarletts. I want no children sent into hard labor and I want no violence done to Will or those he cares for.”  
Guy looked like he had swallowed something bitter. He shook his head. “You are rough negotiator, my lady,” he said softly, looking at me with a mix of admiration and irritation. He considered my terms for a moment, then spoke. “I give you my word. It shall be done.” His eyes continued to hold my gaze, and I knew my nearness was intoxicating him. “Is there nothing more you want for yourself, my lady?” he asked seductively.

Overcome with emotion, with the nearness of him, his voice, I could not stop myself; I reached out to touch his cheek. As much as he had hurt me, he had done so for his beliefs and his monarch, not out of sheer cruelty. It still did not excuse his actions. He had loved me. It was only that he loved John more.

Guy closed his eyes as I touched him, pressing my hand to his face. “I cannot tell you what this means to me,” he said. “To see you again. To hope that we may be friends.”

“Our friendship will end on your wedding day, Sir Guy,” I said smoothly, removing my hand from his face and standing. “Or mine, whichever comes first. It must.” Feeling faint and sick but determined to win this negotiation, I turned away to head towards the door, fighting back my emotions as I did. I heard him stand and follow me. He gently placed a hand on my shoulder.

“I need to know one more thing,” he said quietly.

“Yes?”

“I need to know if you read the poem I sent you, and if you understood it,” he said intently, his eyes searching my face. 

He wanted to know if I had understood the code. I nodded. 

“Yes, I read and understood it, though I believe the coded message was much mistaken in its claim of ownership,” I replied.

Guy’s eyes flicked away, pain flashing in them for a moment before he looked back. “What did it say?” he asked me, stepping closer into my space. “I need you to say it back to me so that I know you understood.” He held my gaze a moment more before I looked away. 

“It said, My Nyssa,” I replied tonelessly. I would not the emotion it had caused in me. I could not now.

“Good,” Guy replied, watching my face with predatory elegance. “I am glad you understood. What you read from now on will be much more difficult than that, and you must remember it precisely before burning it. Once you have retrieved the letters from the specific location, you will send me word and we will meet to discuss them.” He withdrew a heavy purse from his waist and put it into my hand. “That is the first payment. You will get more upon delivery of the next message.”

“Then you must tell me where they will be left for me,” I replied. “Did you find a location?”

“Yes.” He gestured to the purse. “In there is also a wrapped package. Let this be your sign as to the location.” He then turned and left me as Thornton opened the door.

“Will?” I stepped outside, to find him nowhere in sight. “Will, are you here?”

Nothing but silence and an empty field greeted me. My stomach sank, knowing that this was quite serious. Will had never deserted me before. Now that I was out of the Manor I felt I could breathe, but inside I was painfully alone. I would not cry, I told myself. If Will deserted me for his politics than he was no better than Sir Guy.

To distract myself, I opened the purse Guy had given me and found in it enough gold to support my family and the Sewards for over a year. I had never seen so much coin in my life and closed the purse, feeling a bit dizzy. As I focused on a single deer in the forest edge, I suddenly remembered the package Guy had said was inside. Forgetting myself, I opened the purse again, found and began ripping at a packet, wrapped in fine red paper. My fingers shaking from the entire meeting, I peeled away a layer of the paper and gasped. 

A beautiful white flower lay in its embrace, and it could only have been from one place.

The lily grove.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets revealed, Guy and Nyssa work out the code together...and a few other things.

CHAPTER 21

Father was not pleased. Will was positively livid. In fact, the only one who felt excited about this new assignment was myself. When I revealed it to Charmaine, she was the only one who showed some emotion for me other than frustration. 

“It does speak worlds of his trust for you,” she told me, attempting to braid a wiggling Elena’s hair. “I can’t imagine it was easy for him to ask you to do it. Has Will recovered himself at all?”

“No,” I said, feeling a pang of sadness. Since the meeting with Sir Guy, Will had gone back to avoiding me and was quite absent from the black market. From what John and others had said, he was now deeply engrossed in Hood’s latest scheme against King John. I had cornered him on the street one day and demanded to know why he had deserted me after the meeting with Sir Guy, but his eyes had been cold. “You didn’t tell Hood what Guy said, did you?” I had asked. “I promised Sir Guy the utmost confidence on the matter.”

“You promised, I did not,” Will said, avoiding my eyes. “You have made your choice, and I cannot respect it. You have allied yourself with the enemy, Nyssa, which God help me, I cannot understand.”

“I did not expect you to agree with me, but I did not think you would scorn me for it,” I had answered. “Will—“

“Goodbye, Nyssa,” Will had said, moving off quickly. Angrily I had called after him, “I see your love for me was very deep to be broken up by one disagreement over politics!”

I regretted my words. The next day Will had sent over my completed sword, delivering it through one of his brothers, who had obviously felt awkward about the whole exchange. It was a beautiful piece of metallurgy; Will had crafted it so that it balanced perfectly in my hand and was very light. My heart twisted when I saw that he had carved a tiny lily into the hilt along with his initials. Obviously it had been finished before his resentment of me had taken hold. Now I would never learn the full art of swordplay as I had hoped, I thought bitterly. But I could at least practice what Will had taught me and try to build on it. Damn he and Sir Guy for their bloody politics!

As I sat remembering all of this, Charmaine gently looked at me. “You never can seem to keep yourself out of distress for too long,” she said with pained amusement. “I’m so sorry that it has been such a challenging time.” Sighing, she finished Elena’s braid. “Go give your Aunt Nyssa a kiss,” she said, and Elena was immediately in my lap, showering me with her exuberant, childlike love. Simon, ever present, attempted to join in the fun, and Elena began squealing, “Siiiiimon! Stoooooop!!” This only invigorated the boxer further, and he attempted to crawl into my lap with Elena. I couldn’t help but laugh at what must be a ridiculous sight, as neither of them were small enough to fit. But I was sorely in need of affection and love so I hugged them both to me, and was rewarded by kisses and licks. Charmaine smiled.

“Dear friend, you need a family and right soon,” she said. “Otherwise mine may steal you away!”

I laughed, nodding my head. “I agree,” I said. “And I hope to take your statement seriously, when I can find a worthy suitor.”

Charmaine regarded me with compassion. “You shall,” she said firmly. “You had mentioned an errand that you had to run after visiting. What is it?”

“I had just received word from Sir Guy that a letter was left yesterday for me. I would, if you don’t mind, like to take Simon with me, in case of trouble.” At the sound of his name, the dog’s head shot up and his long tongue began licking his lips in excitement.

“Of course,” Charmaine said, taking a rope from the nearby chair and looping it around his neck. “Be warned, he’s very strong and will pull after the quietest bird.” She regarded the dog with affectionate disdain.

“Thank you, Charmaine,” I said, hugging her. “I will bring him back safely, but I am most grateful for his presence.” Simon nosed my hand with his wet snub, and panted happily. We walked out the front door, and began to take the path up the forest towards the lily grove. I was grateful for Simon’s presence, as I had not been to the grove in some time and was quite unsure what my emotional reaction would be when I saw it again. But now I had to go.

I felt more than slightly nervous as we began our trek up the hill, paranoid that I was missing obvious clues of being followed by another thief, or someone more dangerous, given what I was collecting. Simon sensed my nerves and became protectively watchful himself, pulling the rope nearly out of my hands as we started our climb. His muscular body tensed, ears perked, I began to rethink my assessment of him purely as a pet. He was intensely aware of every slight move in the forest, every breath, every smell. Seeing his alertness, I relaxed a little. If there was a thief, he would know immediately.

I began to breathe easily, enjoying the sensation walking Simon and his own curiosity about the world. He had no preconceptions about where we were going, and merely enjoyed the walk, which helped me to do the same. I noticed the beautiful greenery in the woods, and began to vaguely hear the tinkle of the waterfall as we neared the grove. My heart sped up, but I watched Simon’s carefree happy smile and that chased my gloomy thoughts away. 

We rounded the bend, and beautiful lily grove came into full view. The lilies were had begun to bloom again, as it was now May, and the whole grove again smelled of paradise to me. It seemed impossible that it had been months since I had come here. Simon sat obediently as I stopped and stared at the pond and waterfall, remembering my moments of passion with Sir Guy in both places. The pain came, but it was duller than I had expected, and other parts of that conversation came to my mind s well…

You’re very lovely, but your heart is the most beautiful part of you…

I will be an honest, respected woman with a fair trade, and no one will take those things from me.

What if they did? What would you be then?

I would still be Nyssa. And I would still have, as you put it, my beautiful heart.

And if someone took that too?

I won’t let it be taken. They’d have to kill me to me make me an ugly person.

Was all of that still true? I hoped so, as I had meant every word. I wondered if the last few months made me an ugly person, from the spectacle I had encountered. But I mused if that were entirely true, I would not be here today.

I walked towards the old mill. So Guy had known all along why I was there; I had fooled him not a bit. Unsurprised, I picked through the opening and looked in to see all of our goods still neatly piled up and dry. I breathed a sigh of relief, leaning over to unwrap the batch of them. As I did so, I saw a sealed letter neatly perched on top of the pile on a sky blue cloak. I immediately grasped the letter, and Simon moved forward to sniff the pile of clothing. I quickly went through it to make sure that nothing had been eaten by pests, then tucked the letter into my bodice, looking around hastily, hearing no one and nothing. Hurriedly, I pulled the sky blue cloak and one dress out of the pile to bring back with me, and pulled Simon out of the mill, as he had begun to eat the grass near the door. I glanced up at my mother’s signed crest, sent a kiss heavenward, and left the grove.

* * * * *

Back in the secret room at our house, my hands trembling, I opened the letter. It was very intimidating to realize that I was literally looking at sealed, royal communication that could break a king’s rule. I was so terribly afraid that I would not be able to understand what was there, and that Guy would be furious, but I would be more furious at myself. I gingerly unfolded the thick paper and began to read.

"These Vex me greatly,   
if I may say so,   
laNguage when it is base servility,   
anD a man who wIshes   
too high a place (at table)   
aNd a charger whIch   
is pUt to Drawing cars.   
And, by My hope of salvation,   
I am vexeD by a young man   
who bars too openly a shIEld   
sUch as never receiveD a blOw,   
by a chaplaiN and moNk wEaring bEards   
and by the shaRp beak Of the baCKbiterS." 

At first glance it seemed to be a simple complaint that was directed at Arthur, but upon close inspection I saw that it was code, the same as the kind that Guy had sent to me in his letter, though far more complex. I could see easily that any capital letter had to be considered, whether it began a sentence or not. Using a small needle that I sewed with I began to scratch out write out all of the capital letters in a row onto the paper:

VINDINIUMDIEUDONNEEROCKS

The words, if they were words, made no sense to me, except the very last which appears to be in English, that of “rocks.” If there was a code here, I now felt moronic for being unable to break it. Regardless, I forced myself to commit the string of letters to memory as well as the entire letter, before I consigned it to the flames of our hearth. I then wove my red curls into a crown on my head and dressed myself in the fine garment and cloak that I had borrowed from our storage. The dress was a deep purple, decorated with shimmering beads at the bodice, its sleeves long and flowing. It had been made for a noble lady and was beautifully offset by the sky blue cloak that I now pulled over my shoulders, fastened by a topaz brooch at the throat. I knew that Guy would want this information immediately, and my dressing as a lady was mean to assist in my disguise as I left my house and headed to his Manor. 

Though I doubted many ladies of the court strapped their swords underneath their cloaks as they traveled.

I arrived in fifteen minutes time at Gisborne Manor, rapping politely at the door to be greeted once again by Thornton, who appeared to only vaguely recognize me.

“My lady?” he asked politely.

“I am here to see Sir Guy. I have important business with him,” I replied, trying to make my voice sound richer and more arrogant than usual.

Thornton responded to my tone immediately. “Of course, my lady. I regret to say that Sir Guy is not here at this time. He will arrive within the hour. May I offer you some refreshment, my lady, while you wait?”

“Yes, that would be lovely,” I replied, attempting to mimic Sabine’s way of speaking, but with less haughtiness. Part of me governed an absurd desire to smile, reveling in my new persona.

As he ushered me into the dining room, Thornton asked, “Are you a companion of Lady Sabine, my lady?”

I stiffened. “No, I am not,” I said coolly. “In fact I find her quite offensive as an English woman.”

Thornton appeared surprised by my frankness, but chuckled. “I could not agree more, my lady,” he said, pouring me a cup of wine and putting out a plate of fine cheeses. He stoked the fire and smiled, again seeming perturbed as to my familiarity, then moved off. I sat quietly, sipping at the wine, as I did not wish its influence to play me as it had with Will. The sun began to set in the west and dip below the frames of one of the windows. The Manor was so quiet that I nearly found myself dozing in its warmth, until the sounds of Aomir’s gait abruptly startled me back to awareness. I heard Sir Guy dismount and the front door bang open. “THORNTON!!” Guy thundered. “I need some ale and supper immediately!” He strode into the dining room in one of his rages, biting and then pulling off his riding gloves, throwing them on the table, with no notice of me. It was almost amusing to watch, until I cleared my throat and stood up, and Guy nearly tripped in his surprise.

“My lady, I beg pardon,” said, still alarmed. “I was not expecting company this evening, and Thornton did not tell me—“

“My apologies, Sir Guy,” Thornton said, quickly running into the room with a tankard of ale and more fruit and cheese. “The lady—“

“Did not give her name,” I finished, putting my hood back to allow Guy to see that it was me. It had been the most luxurious feeling to realize that he had not known who I was for a few moments.

Guy’s face was stunned. His eyes travelled up and down my figure in his usual way but more languorously this time, coming back to rest on my face. “Nyssa,” he said throatily, “you are stunning.”

I felt a twinge in my stomach, but continued on in a business-like way. “I bring news, Sir Guy of a most private matter,” I said, my eyes flicking to Thornton. Guy dismissed him with a gesture, his eyes still pinned on me. I smiled briefly and he blinked, appearing to come back to himself. “Yes,” he said seriously. “What information do you bring? What was in the letter?”

I recited from memory the poem from the letter. Guy took a long swallow from his tankard, his eyes drinking in my words and appearance. As he considered what I recited to him, his gaze traveled to the ceiling in thought and consideration. Then he abruptly put down his tankard. “That is interesting,” he commented. “What you have recited to me is an English translation of a well known troubadour song by the Monk of Montaudon.”

“Who is that?” I asked.

Guy chuckled. “He is the president of Puy, though most consider his poems to be of little importance. He is known in noble circles as the Sparrow-Hawk.” He turned to me, his eyes lit up by recognition. “There is significance that it is an English translation of a French poem. Our correspondent is obviously fluent in both languages and aware of French culture, if he quoting the Sparrow-Hawk.” Guy’s expression was one that of a panther that has spotted its quarry, and he looked ready for the kill.

“I wasn’t aware that you were so acquainted with French culture,” I said. 

“My mother was French,” Guy said. “I speak and read it. That is why John has given me the task of understanding these correspondences.”

“I see,” I replied. “At first I thought the poem was merely a complaint about Arthur, but as I looked at it more closely, I found the following letters capitalized.” I read them out to Guy, VINDINIUMDIEUDONNEEROCKS as I remembered them. Guy closed his eyes, listening, and I could see his intellect working to pry the puzzle apart. His hands steepled, he eventually grunted. 

“Thornton! A quill and paper!” He looked at me sheepishly. “I will have to look at this to understand it properly, but I will burn it as soon as we have figured it out.” Thornton entered with the item Guy had requested and left just as quietly. The quill scratched against paper as Guy wrote out the mysterious letters, frowning at them in frustration. “Damn,” he mumbled. “What in the hell does this mean?” He squinted at the first part of the string. “Vin…vin is wine in French, but how is that crucial?”

“It could be crucial to the French,” I snickered. Guy glanced up at me, a half smile on his face. “Did you make a jest at the expense of the French, Nyssa?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, humor dancing in his blue eyes. 

I looked away, blushing. “Perhaps,” I answered. “If we can’t laugh during this puzzle-solving we may as well bayonet ourselves.”

Guy’s rich, warm laugh echoed into the room. “Christ’s bones. You are a treasure,” he said, smiling at me, before he squinted at the letters again. “Neerocks,” he drawled out slowly. “What the devil is that?”

“Let me see,” I said, walking around to his side of the table. I leaned over his shoulder and stared at the letters. “Rocks,” I said. “Why can it not be rocks?”

“Because the rest is not in English,” Guy said testily. 

“But you just said the correspondent speaks both English and French,” I said, pointing to the ending string. I felt Guy’s slight shift toward me as my arm bent over his shoulder. “Why could it not be rocks? Perhaps he used multiple languages.”

“Ah yes! That’s it!” Guy said, slamming his fist on the table. “Yes, of course, how could I not have seen it?” He excitedly grabbed his quill and began searching for words in the string. I heard him mumble “Rocks. And before that…donnée… no…donne e….Dieudonne! Yes! That’s it!” He grabbed the paper and stood, reading aloud.

“Vindinium. Dieudonne e rocks.” Understanding and cold fear dawned on him.

“What does it mean?” I said.

“Vindinum is the ancient Roman name for the city of Le Mans, in France. Dieudonne was the nickname given to Philip II by his parents, as he was their firstborn son, ‘God’s gift’. He and this character that is called Rocks are meeting at Le Mans.” Sweat broke out on Guy’s brow. “God’s bones, they must be planning something truly crippling for John’s territories. Le Mans is strategically placed for many battles with Anjou and Tours as allies. I must get word to John immediately. Thornton, have the stable boy saddle my horse!” Guy shouted. He sprang into energetic action, like the large cat that he was, and immediately threw the paper into the fire. He finished off his tankard in one quick draught, pulled on his gloves and then turned to me. 

“I could not have done any of this without you,” he said ardently. Gently, he took my hands in his. “Nyssa, I cannot ever show enough thanks for your brilliant mind.” I gazed up at him and smiled softly, feeling that some broken bond between us had been healed with this shared project. Guy looked back at me with equal ardor, his eyes deep and aroused. Some decision snapped in his mind and he murmured, “Oh, France’s bloody politics be fucked!” 

His head bent and he captured my face in a deep, passionate kiss. I was slightly startled, but part of me had known it was coming, and wanted it. I had wanted him to kiss me, to love me, to treat me as his lady since he had come back from France six months ago. I felt myself lean into his long, tall frame, my hands on his chest, pulling him closer to me. He held my face in his large hands, stroking my cheeks, gently urging me closer by pressing on the back of my head. Both of us were at a loss for breath as the kiss went on and on, our bodies seeking closer contact. But there was gentleness, a care, an appreciation in Guy’s treatment of me now that I had not felt before. We were so lost in one another that neither of us heard Thornton enter the room until his abrupt gasp broke the kiss. Guy looked up from me, glaring at an astonished Thornton.

“I…will tell the stable boy to wait, my lord,” he said, disappearing as quickly as he had come.

“Well, that will give the servants something to gossip about,” Guy said, smirking a little. “A noble lady in my house at night, the scandal of it. And caught in an illicit embrace!” He grinned at me, but I could not smile back.

“Sir Guy, I have no wish to be the subject of gossip, especially in the face of your upcoming marriage.”

Guy’s face darkened. “The marriage is a sham to please France. It is a business arrangement, nothing more. In fact I should be glad if Sabine thought I had a mistress.”

“Yes, but you plan to go through with it,” I said. “I must remind you that when you do, our arrangement will end. It must.”

“Yes, you have now reminded me twice,” Guy said querulously. “But until then--“ He leaned towards me again and I bent back, pressing my finger to his lips.

“Wicked devil,” I said, allowing myself a small giggle. Guy grinned. 

“All right then, off with you, scandalous woman,” he chided, touching my cheek. “I will send payment as soon as I return. And the next time you come, arrive on a horse at least. All noble ladies would.”

“I would, if I had a horse to ride. As it is I only have a donkey,” I said churlishly, reminding him of Sabine’s cruel jest. He laughed out loud then as he opened the door. And as if I had summoned the devil itself, the open door revealed Sabine on her white mare, slowly picking its way towards the Manor. Gasping, I quickly put my hood up and dashed off to the left. I immediately heard her shriek,

“Guy! Where are you going? Qui est cette dame?”

As I continued scurrying away, I heard Guy’s tart reply: “I am this moment leaving for Prince John, Sabine. And that woman is the reason I have not bedded you for months.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Guy. Robin Hood makes an appearance...and Nyssa shows her loyalty.

CHAPTER 22

Politics had become my life in the past few weeks. Guy had ridden the several days journey to London to deliver our shared discovery with John, who had then begun preparations to leave for France himself. It had proven too late though, as Philip and “Rocks” had indeed met at Le Mans. As Guy shared with me upon his return, “Rocks” had been an English translation of the French name des Roches. It referred specifically to a powerful Anjou nobleman, William des Roches, who was in league with Philip and Arthur to overtake John’s lands in Normandy. As the letter indicated, Des Roches and Philip had met at Le Mans, and then attacked and destroyed the border fortress of Ballon. This was the latest news we had, which strategically did not bode well for John. When Guy returned, his face was lined with care and worry, and he looked exhausted for days afterwards. He and Sabine continued to make local appearances together, though I noticed a marked coldness in her demeanor towards him, and his usual indifference to her was unchanged.

Guy sent word shortly afterwards to me that we should expect another message from his correspondent soon. I went about my business as usual, going to the market with Father, knitting and crocheting summer clothing for trade and spinning and carding our wool for the future. Underneath it all though I could not stop thinking about my next translation project and that it would mean I would see Guy. I thought of him often, as I did of Will, who I never saw anymore. He was, by all accounts, working with Hood exclusively and had no time for the market, or anyone in it, anymore.

Father was ill disposed towards Will’s abandonment of our courtship, but he was no less pleased for the reason of it. “I suspect that this translating is an elaborate ruse for Sir Guy to charm you into his bed,” he had said to me at the market one day. “I am not pleased with your decision to help him.”

“I’m not doing it for him, Father,” I said.

“So if Sabine had asked you, then you would have obliged to work with her? Or the Sheriff?” he asked argumentatively.

“Sabine wouldn’t know a political matter from a ribbon on her cleavage,” I said sourly. “And the Sheriff would never trust a peasant like me.”

Father shook his head at me. “I only remind you that Sir Guy has hurt you once. If he does it again, it is down to you for trusting him.”

“I never said I trusted him!” I said. “However, I do want to help my King, not the French. And I have told you, when Sir Guy marries, this arrangement ends.”

“Good,” Father said ominously. “I look forward to that day.” While his words were harsh, I knew it was because he had my best interests at heart. “I do wish you would try to make amends with Will, Nyssa,” he continued. 

“In terms of giving me up for his politics, Will is no better than Sir Guy,” I said. “And when, Father? He is never here.”

“I only wish he would train you further with that sword. I’ve seen you practice, but you need someone to practice with.”

“It was not my choice to break off the contact. Stop blaming me for his decision. This conversation is over.” I angrily threw aside a beaded necklace I had been working on and got up to walk away from the stall for a moment. 

The men in my life constantly infuriated me with their habitual placement of blame on my shoulders. I beat a furious pace away from our stall and went to stand in the private grove where I Will and I had shared our moment of passion. As angry as I was at him, I still thought of him. I hoped he was safe and I hoped that he was truly fighting for what he believed in, because Will was a good man. I remembered that he had stopped himself from making love to me on that day in this grove out of respect. Part of me wondered why. It would have been no loss to anyone and might have further cemented our relationship. I might now be pregnant with his child and in a happy marriage…or I might now be pregnant with his child and deserted by him for Hood in the same way. Only Fate could tell. I paced the small area, my thoughts racing and racing with no easy conclusions in sight. Finally I decided to go back to our stall, though I still felt angry and unsettled.

As I walked back towards Father, I said simply, “I’m leaving for a while. Can you carry on without me?”

Father looked surprised. “Nyssa, I’m sorry if—“

“No mind. I just need an hour, and I’ll be back.” He nodded at me, obviously concerned, but released me for time. I strapped on my sword, concealed it beneath my cloak and headed towards the main road near the forest. 

I had only gone a half-mile when I heard the thwack of an arrow into a tree near me, only a few inches away. I froze and slowly turned my head to the left, where the arrow had come from. As I did, I saw a man dressed in brown leather with green eyes aiming a second arrow right at my chest.

“That error was on purpose. I don’t have to miss,” he said unpleasantly.

This could be none other than Robin Hood.

 

“I believe you,” I said carefully. Hood lowered the arrow slightly as he saw my face. “I can see that you carry a blade, my lady. I need you to disarm yourself, or I’ll do it for you.”

Sighing, I pulled my cloak aside and unbuckled my sword from my belt, tossing it on the ground. Hood drew closer to me, his arrow still drawn but looser now. “That’s a good girl,” he said cheerfully. I rolled my eyes in irritation. “I’m not a horse, Sir Robin,” I said.

“No, you are not,” Hood replied, his eyes dropping from me to my weapon. His gaze lingered on the sword, judging its length, heft, and weight. “I know that sword. That’s Will Scarlett’s work. “ He took a closer look at me, recognition dawning on his face. “Lower your hood, my lady.”

Not feeling it was wise to disagree, I did as he asked. He regarded me for a moment longer than was appropriate, then smiled. “Scarlett was right. You are a beauty.”

“How is Will?” I ventured to ask. 

“Well enough,” Hood replied. “But I understand that you are Sir Guy’s creature now, so why do you care?”

“I am no man’s creature,” I said. “I believe in the cause of helping Sir Guy for England, which is why I do it.”

“I also understand, “ Hood said smoothly, cutting across my last sentence, “that you were once his lover.”

“I was once his fiancée, sir,” I said. “Like Will, he abandoned me for his politics and is engaged to a French woman.”

At this, Hood lowered his arrow and contemplated me for a moment. “I do not believe that Will has abandoned you, my lady,” he said. “I believe he is hurt and angry and does not understand your decision. Nor can I, really.”

“Nor can anyone. But I am the only one who has to understand my reasons,” I said. “Are you and Will and the rest plotting against John?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Hood answered, smiling slyly. “Sir Guy will have to do his own footwork. He might do well to watch his step in the matter. Danger can befall those closest to him in a matter of moments.” The last was said with an air of foreboding. I swallowed.

“Are you going to shoot me, or let me go, sir?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.

“Oh, I plan to let you go once you tell me where the correspondence letters are being left,” Hood said. “But not before then.”

I lifted my chin. “I will not tell you that, sir. You will have to shoot me first.”

Hood’s face darkened. His bow arm tensed, the arrow drawn back. My heart’s pace quickened and I said a silent prayer to God that if this was to be my last moment, that He would care for those I loved, and make this death quick. I closed my eyes, bowed my head, and waited for Hood’s arrow.

It never came. I opened my eyes and looked at him. He was staring at me in something akin to admiration.

“Very brave, my lady.”

He smiled a bit, then said, “I can’t take the life of one so brave, and since you have nothing else to take, I will settle for Scarlett’s sword.” He moved to pick up my sword, hoisted it over his back and began to saunter off. I burned in anger to see him with my property. Robin Hood, robbing from the rich, indeed! I almost called after him but fortunately thought better of it, and bit my tongue. As he left the path he exclaimed,

“Very brave! Wish you were working on our side, but let me know if you’d like to come with us. Scarlett would be thrilled.”

Scarlett. Hood. Damn them both to hell! I was back on the path, so angry that my walk had become a run. I was minus a sword, my pride and my usual feeling of protection, picking my way towards the main town road. I pulled my hood up as I emerged onto it, looking this way and that. I walked a ways further towards the busier area of the town, and found one of the local boys to carry a message to Gisborne Manor. I told him that I needed to see Sir Guy as soon as possible, so that I could tell him of my encounter with Hood. I also wanted to ask him if he knew if the letter had arrived yet, but would wait to ask that in person, as it had been the main reason for my journey. I gave the boy two coins and told him to get a sweetie at the local shop for himself after the message was delivered. He smiled and ran off in the direction of the Manor.

 

I waited a good twenty minutes for the message to find its master. I was just turning to go back towards the market, when who should come strutting down the main road but Sir Guy himself. Aomir recognized me immediately and pranced his way forward, apparently showing off the new friend that Guy led behind him. She was a dappled silver mare, elegant and well-made at the same time, and regarded me curiously as Guy reined Aomir to the side of the road. Aomir nodded his head, blowing out puffs of air and shaking his mane, in his usual posturing manner. I immediately went to the horse and gently rubbed his nose.

“Flirt,” I said to him, blowing a kiss, “Just like your master.”

Guy raised an eyebrow at me attractively. “So now my horse is a better conversationalist than I?”

“Better looking, anyway,” I said impishly, glancing up at him. “But I suppose you’ll do. I did send you the message, not your horse.”

“You ought to watch your tongue,” Guy said, his voice dropping a tone as he leaned down from Aomir to address me. “Or I may have to watch it for you.”

“I think you’re the one with a dangerous tongue, Sir Guy,” I said boldly, curtseying with an overtly dramatic flair. I saw Guy snicker despite himself, and one of the first real smiles I had seen in months crossed his face. His eyes still on me, he swung himself out of his saddle and walked imposingly forward, still holding Aomir’s reins. In a seductive murmur, he whispered, “And I’m still capable of using that tongue to good purpose, lady.”

“Shhh now, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I said lightly, tapping his long nose. I was enjoying this. Who gave a fig if he would be married soon? I still enjoyed his intellect, his appearance, and his company. I had no name for what our relationship was, but the sexual tension and battle of wits was ever-present. As the thought passed through my mind, he captured my hand in his and kissed it. “I always keep my promises,” he said in a low voice.

Now it was my turn to blush. “Well, then perhaps you can tell me when I should take delivery of another letter,” I said lightly, attempting to change the subject.

“It should be late tonight or early tomorrow morning,” he said, now all business. “Are you still comfortable going?”

“Well that was what I hoped to speak with you about,” I said, now also turning serious. “Hood caught me in the woods today. He took my sword, and he and the others are plan to side with Arthur and the French in some way. I’m sure you knew this, but—“

Guy's face had gone from serious to murderous. He took a quick, careful inventory of me. “Did he hurt you? Threaten you?”

“Threaten yes, hurt no,” I answered. “But I feel less safe without my sword. I wonder if I could borrow one of yours when I go to retrieve the letter.”

“You can borrow twelve if you like, but I’d rather go with you myself to be sure it’s safe.”

“No, Guy, I think that’s what he wants,” I said “He wanted to know where the letters were being left. I wouldn’t tell him. And—“

“You wouldn’t tell him?” He took my shoulders in his huge hands and looked down at me. “Nyssa, you could have been killed!” His eyes were frantic. “I can always find another place for the letters, but I can’t find another you!” As he said this, he pulled me into his embrace and held me like a small child against his huge, lean frame. I felt slightly suffocated, but it was a pleasant form of distress.

“I’m fine, Guy, really,” I said, my voice muffled against his chest. He eased me away form him then, but only slightly. “He threatened, but I stood up to him and he couldn’t bring himself to harm me.” I pulled away from him, just a little, and put my hands on the sides of his face. “You have to stay calm. I think he wants to rile you up with this so you’ll make a mistake and reveal something. If we go there together, they will know where it is, because you are tall and easy to see. Don’t follow his scheme, Guy.”

His eyes searched mine again, before he pressed my hands with his own. “You’re right,” he said, closing his eyes. “He’s relying on me reacting in my usual way, which would be to challenge him to a duel, to go with you, and so on.” He looked way from me, considering. I saw his frenetic energy calm, though his anger still simmered beneath the surface. I knew he wanted to tear Hood apart for threatening me, and to never leave my side in that threat. But he knew he mustn’t. Looking back at me, he said softly,

“Why are you so loyal to me?” 

“You know why,” I answered.

I saw how deep his desire was to kiss me then, but as were in public, a struggle played on his face. He moved back from me a little bit and closed his eyes. I knew he was trying to believe my words, as if recovering from some old wound that had never healed. After a moment, he opened them and said, “Well then, as the stakes are so much higher, I have an advance on your next payment. Prince John was quite pleased with your work.”

He walked back to the mare tied behind Aomir, untied her and slapped her a little bit on the flank. “Here. She’s yours. Now you can come to Gisborne Manor as a true lady next time.”

My mouth fell open. The gift of a young, strong horse was unlike any that I had ever seen, and no one in my class of people had. We were donkey people, mule people, but not horse people. Not a horse like this one. The mare regarded me with clear, dark eyes, and I her. I was already thinking of a place to house her in our barn.

I turned to look at Guy, who had a worried expression on his face. “Say something,” he said. “Does she please you?”

“Oh, Guy! I never…ever thought to own a horse, let alone a fine mare like this,” I went to her gently, took her reins and patted her nose. “Hello, lovely lady. Do you really want to come home with me?” I saw Guy smile peripherally as I spoke to her. He stroked her mane and reached up to scratch her ears while I continued my conversation. The mare seemed pleased and with a solid temperament, as she did not shy away from me or from Guy. She nickered softly as I petted her, and then I felt Guy’s hands at my waist. 

“Well come on then, let me see you on her,” he said softly. I smiled and he lifted and swung me up onto the mare’s back, perching me there like a bird. I shifted to put one leg on each side, and he laughed. “As I had expected. No court lady would ride in such a way.”

I ignored him but made a mental note of this. “She’s beautiful, Guy. Is she Arabian, like…like Sabine’s horse?”

Guy’s face immediately changed. “No, she’s English. I don’t take to foreign horseflesh. The Arabians are too flighty and high strung, and they colic easily. Only Sabine would insist on a white Arabian mare. This mare,” he said softly, “is a beautiful being who is loyal and demands respect.” He reached up to me and caressed my hand on her reins. “Much like her mistress.” I smiled, unable to contain myself.

“What are you going to call her?” he asked.

I stroked her mane and smiled a second time. 

“Lily.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyssa retrieves another message...and is intercepted by Will.

Chapter 23

 

I was in love with my new horse. Lily was a beautiful mare, and as even- tempered and kind as any horse I had known. Oddly, she and Jemma became immediate friends, as if they had known they were connected through Sir Guy. Jemma fussed unless I allowed her to sleep in Lily’s stall with her, and I found them in there each morning, Lily snoozing on her feet and Jemma snuggled up nearby. I had never seen two animals become such fast friends, and to watch them gently chase one another in the field brought me great joy. At times like these, Father gruffly smiled and made a half-hearted complaint about having too many mouths to feed. Not that we were hurting anymore for funds, as my last translation had brought in enough coin to keep our homestead in good repair for quite some time.

I had received word from Sir Guy that the latest letter had come, so I decided to make my trip to the lily grove early in the morning, before Hood’s gang was likely to be awake. Rather than take Lily, though I would have loved to do so, I decided it was more prudent and less visible to go on foot. I had borrowed one of Sir Guy’s shorter swords and concealed it under my dress in case of trouble. As I had the previous time, I stopped by Charmaine’s house for a quick visit, and took Simon with me. He was ever alert, and calmed my nerves yet again. Despite his sweet nature, he was the most alert housedog I had ever met. If the wind changed, he noticed, his rose shaped ears pricking. As we negotiated the way up the hill, Simon’s nose trembled at an alarming rate and he let out a long, soft growl. I turned, looking in all directions, around and behind me, but saw nothing. I slowly grasped the unfamiliar hilt of Guy’s sword. “Who’s there?” I called out. “If you are there, show yourself!” 

I waited, holding Simon at the ready. He had stopped growling but stood at attention, his body tensed for action. Suddenly, three starlings burst out of a hedge close by, flying at me and upwards, and Simon strained on the rope, jumping to snap at them. Startled, I pulled him back, hanging onto that rope for dear life as he attempted to drag me back and away after the birds. Sighing in exasperation, I gave the rope a sharp tug. Simon coughed and the tension eased. “You lurch,” I snapped, annoyed. “Guarding me with your life from birds!”

We continued up the path, into the grove and into the mill remains. I looked around carefully as I stepped inside, and was pleased to see my mother’s crest, still tattered but hanging proudly above the clothing. I stroked it for a moment, feeling close to her whenever I came here, wishing she could see what I was doing, and be proud of me for it. I always longed for her approval, which could never really be won. I leaned down to open the package of wrapped clothing, and found a very small piece of paper underneath the next gown. I looked around quickly again, still keeping one eye on Simon, who had wandered close by, sniffing at the ground with an intensity that worried me. I continued surveying the grove, but seeing nothing, tucked the paper into my bodice, and took another fine cloak from the pile. I needed another disguise to go to Sir Guy’s in case Sabine happened by as she had previously.

“Simon, come!” I called, and the Boxer bounded happily towards me. I took the rope and began to lead him down the hill, holding the cloak in my other arm. It was heavy with brocade and beading and I found myself wishing I had at least taken Gwynna so that my arm would ache less. But I knew it would be too obvious if I had another animal with me. Simon pulled a bit as we went down the hill, knowing he was getting closer to home, and therefore, Elena. I found myself stumbling a bit more, and was relieved when we finally came down the hill and onto the path that led by Charmaine’s. I had begun to tie Simon to the doorway when I heard a voice call out, “Nyssa! There you are!”

I froze. It was Will.

You have no reason to be nervous, or really to speak with him, I told myself. I continued tying a slow, very tight knot as I heard Will’s steps come close. “Nyssa!” Will called. 

Simon, not recognizing Will, began growling and then barking, straining against the rope. I turned to address Will and stood next to Simon as the racket increased with his every step.

“He doesn’t like strangers,” I said coldly. 

“But I’m not a stranger to you,” Will replied, almost jovial. 

In answer, I crossed my arms, glaring at him, and did nothing to discourage Simon’s addled boo-wooing. His barks sounded more like baying, and I was certain that the entire Seward family would be outside soon, demanding to know why their dog was acting like Cerberus.

“Well, then,” Will said, stopping about five feet before me and the dog, who abandoned his barks for a deep, frightening growl. “I will keep my distance.”

“That would be wise, I think,” I replied. I was playing it cool, but I could feel sweat on my brow, thinking of the letter I had in my bodice. Was it obvious? Could Will see the outline of it? How long had he followed me? I licked my lips. 

“Will, why are you here?” I asked tiredly, feeling it as well. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to see you,” Will said. As kind as he sounded, Simon was not buying his sweet tone. Growls flared in his direction.

“You’ve been able to see me at any market day,” I answered, “but haven’t been. Why this meeting, here?” My eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Will squirmed, refusing to meet my eyes. He eyed Simon, and I could tell he wanted to move closer to me, but was afraid of the dog. “Can we not speak as friends, Nyssa?” he asked. 

“Are we friends?” I asked evenly. “Last we spoke you made it quite clear you had no time for me, because of my politics.”

“I know and I regret the distance I have placed between us,” Will said. “I miss you, Nyssa.” 

He took a cautious step closer, and Simon snapped lightly in his direction. Instantly he stepped back, and I could not resist a small smile. “Good boy,” I said sweetly to Simon. I heard the front door open and John, Charmaine’s husband poked his head out of it. “Good God, you waspish beast,” he said to Simon fondly. “Haven’t you given enough of a sermon today?”

John walked outside, which quieted Simon immediately. The dog transformed into his usual smiling, panting self, and John scratched his ears, eyeing me and then Will. “Is all well, Nyssa?” he asked. “I can take the dog inside if he is troubling you.”

I sighed. “Perhaps that would be best,” I said. I really had no desire to speak with Will, but I knew if I didn’t the entire village would be clamoring for silence soon. John kept a steady gaze at Will. “Scarlett,” he said, nodding. Will nodded back. “I do hope you are keeping well. I have not seen you at the market for many weeks now.”

Will avoided his gaze. “I have had other pressing business,” he said.

“I wish you well with it. It must be very important for you to miss assisting your father,” John said, a bit of acid in his tone. He untied Simon’s rope and led him indoors. “We are inside if you need anything, Nyssa,” John said, glancing pointedly at Will before closing the door.

Will breathed a small sigh of relief and looked at me. He looked as tired as I felt, his hazel eyes seeming a bit dimmer than usual. I could tell he had been in the woods as of late. His clothes needed washing and his hair was curling from the humidity. In that moment, I felt a bit sorry for him, but reminded myself of his recent behavior. “Well?” I asked, trying to sound softer than my words.

“I was very hasty in abandoning our courtship,” Will said carefully. “I’m sorry for the way that I left you at Gisborne’s. I was angry and…I should have waited.”

I nodded. “Yes. I agree.”

“I wanted to find you,” Will said, “so that I could return this.” He withdrew my sword from his cloak. “Hood had no right to take it.”

I sighed with relief. I had missed its calming heft at my side, and hated the awkwardness of the short sword Guy had given me. I reached out to take it, still noting Will’s personalized touch with the lily on the hilt. As I did, he caught my hand.

Our eyes met. His were full of apology, and mine of confusion, I was sure. I raised an eyebrow, one of Guy’s signature expressions. Will held my hand in a gentle squeeze, and I could tell he did not want to release me to give me the sword. I pulled back slightly, still eyeing him with suspicion. He signed, rleased me and then handed me the sword.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, my eyes downcast. “Will you be going back to Hood now?” I asked.

“Unless I have a reason to stay here,” Will said steadily, stepping towards me. He gently raised his hand to my face and stroked my cheek. “God, you are so beautiful,” he said intensely. I felt my body stiffen as he began leaning forward to kiss me. I puled back from him, putting a hand up gently.

“Will, I appreciate that you have missed me, but you can’t simply expect me to act as if nothing has changed,” I said.

“Has something changed?” Will said. His tone implied that whatever it was involved Sir Guy. I sighed impatiently. “You know it has. We haven’t seen each other in weeks.”

“Yet I can’t believe that you have seen no one else,” Will said, more than a hint of bite in his tone.

“If you mean Sir Guy then yes, I am still helping him. And as you have given me no cause to think we are still friends, I can hardly see that it is your business.”

“Oh, Nyssa,” Will said, moving forward again. Before I realized it, his arms had encircled me. “Lovely. Why must you ally yourself with him?” Before I could stop it, his lips had descended on mine, and he was kissing me softly. I felt myself grow warm and angry at the same time. His lips covered my protest. “You,” he said softly, “could be a valuable asset to the right side.”

I abruptly broke off the kiss and pushed Will away. “Is this your request, or Hood’s?” I said, fury making me shake. “Is that the real reason you sought me out to return the sword?”

Will’s eyes betrayed the answer by looking ashamed. My anger doubled. “So, this has nothing to do with reconciling yourself to me. You want me to spy on Sir Guy!”

“Only for a short while!” Will said quickly, trying to soothe me. “You would be protected completely by us. We would never ask you to do anything that would endanger yourself, only to provide information—“

“From the very person I promised to help!” I snapped. “You would ask me to betray his trust to gain yours?”

“He has deep feelings for you, Nyssa,” Will said shrewdly. “I hear he no longer visits his fiancee’s bed, and scorns other women. That is true power, Nyssa. It could be used to advantage.”

“The question is whose,” I said shortly. “Will, I made a promise. I won’t betray Sir Guy.”

Will’s eyes grew cold. He released me roughly, his whole body stiff. “So you would rather be a nobleman’s whore than an honest man’s wife?” he spat at me. “You choose him over me?”

“I am, nor ever will be, any man’s whore,” I said evenly, holding his gaze. “I hold true to my beliefs, and no man’s agenda. Call me what you will, but I know the truth of myself. Your judgment of me means nothing, based on your own behavior.” I then held out the sword he had retuned to me, turning it on him. “Now get out of here.”

Will continued glaring, both hurt and furious at the same time. He turned to leave, tossing over his shoulder,

“Much luck to you, whore of Gisborne. If you bear his bastard, expect no quarter from Hood or Locksley village.”

“You are not Locksley village, Will Scarlett!” I called back. “And much luck to you, whore of Hood!” Tears stung my eyes, but I would not let him see them. I had once had feelings for this man, who had turned hateful and horrible to me. It was as if noting had ever existed between us, as if no words of love or passion had been exchanged. How could he become so icy, so callous towards one he had claimed to love? Part of my pain stemmed from feeling as if I could not follow my heart and be true to those I loved. Father, Will, Guy, all suspected me, and no one trusted me…

I turned, tears streaming down my face. Despite my feelings I had a job to do. I began hurrying home to read the message, change, and get Lily to Gisborne Manor. I had to be there before nightfall or it was more likely that I would run into Sabine. I swiped a hand across my face hurriedly, almost running, feeling the pain course through my veins as my heart rate rose, the heavy cloak weighing me down, my lungs heaving, my feet carrying me fast.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyssa's stress takes an unusual outlet...with the help of Sir Guy.

Chapter 24

Once home, I read and reread the letter several times, branded its confusing message into my brain and then burnt it in our fire. It was odd and somehow a powerful drug to realize that state secrets lie in the ashes of our fireplace. Then I had hurriedly changed into a new dress, and wrapped the heavy brocade cloak around me. I groaned a bit as its weight settled on my shoulders. Did all ladies have to bear this uncomfortable burden? I thought. Then again, most of them did not have to saddle their own horses and run a household in the same manner that I did. Still aching from Will’s nasty words, I led Lily out of her stall and mounted her, urging her into a fast walk, riding with my legs on one side as Guy had mentioned, though it felt deucedly uncomfortable and made my back ache. I supposed I would have to put up with a backache if I was to pass for a lady.

Lady.   
Whore.   
Slattern.   
Fiancée.  
Wife.   
Foolish girl. 

Somehow the months and years of hearing these words from all of the men in my life felt as if they were pressing down on my heart. Which of these was I? I wasn’t sure that I knew myself anymore, or if I had ever fit into only one category, as my social class allowed for. Why could I not fit into or be anything that was expected of me? What was I really? A merchant’s daughter? A highly paid spy for the Crown? A woman who gave her body to two different men? A warrior? A lover? I fisted them out of my eyes, but the tears fell and my vision blurred as I reined Lily onto the main road towards the Manor. She walked a bit uncertainly as I normally rode her with purpose and guidance, but I felt the sobs shake my shoulders. It had been so long since I had a moment to myself to have a good cry. I had to be strong for all the men in my life the rest of the time. It was only around Charmaine and any maternal figure that I could have sought comfort or shown my fear and uncertainty. I supposed that was why I was here with Lily now. She actually stopped walking at one point and turned her head to look at me with one dark brown eye. I stroked her mane gently as if to reassure her, when I was the one who needed reassurance. My tears wet her neck, and she gently lowered her head to crop grass for a moment, before I was able to breathe and regain some composure. Nudging her forward, I urged her towards Gisborne Manor, which was just around the next clearing. I saw the flicker of movement in one of the windows near the door as I rode closer. I stopped Lily near the gates of the door, slipped off of her delicately and tied her to one of the posts nearby. Taking another deep breath, and hoping I didn’t look completely wretched, I knocked softly on the door.

To my surprise, it was Guy who opened the door, and not Thornton this time. His face was slightly flushed, and his deep blue eyes were bright, as if he was mildly excited. A rare and unusual smile played across his handsome face.

“Welcome again, my lady,” he said, his voice deep and sensual. 

I wanted to throw myself into his arms, hold onto him and never let go. Taking another breath, I forced a smile to my face instead and avoided looking him in the face as I ascended the steps to the Manor. I heard him close the door behind me and sighed in relief. Thornton was not in the room so I didn’t need to try to hide myself…yet, at least. 

“May I take your cloak?” I heard Guy ask politely from behind me. His hand lightly touched my shoulder, and I could sense the reverberation of his chest as he spoke. I nodded, and felt his hands surround my neck, skillfully unhook the clasp there and pull the cloak from my shoulders to hang nearby. The action of his powerful arms nearly embracing me with this movement almost sent me into another crying fit, but I again forced myself to keep my emotions in check. It was harder each time.

As Guy came back to stand in front of me, I noticed he was dressed in a more colorful fashion than his usual black. Gold threads flashed in the dark ruby linen shirt he wore, which opened up nicely to reveal a bit of his broad chest. He wore his customary leather breeches and boots and his sword hung in its usual place at his side. I looked up at him hungrily, now unable to hide my deep emotions. Whatever else he was, Guy of Gisborne was every inch a man. At this moment, I yearned for a man’s powerful protection and care.

As I looked up at him, his expression changed from one of interest to concern. “Nyssa,” he said, gently reaching out to touch my face. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said, my voice breaking. I turned away, my back to him so that he could not touch me or scrutinize me with that disquieting stare. I couldn’t let him see me like this, not him. “Nothing. I’m just…tired. And hungry, that’s all.”

To my surprise, his strong arms encircled me from behind, enfolding me to his chest where I felt my head touch his chin. Without meaning to, my hands involuntarily went to clasp his, which were around my waist. 

“I don’t believe you,” he rumbled softly in my ear. When I heard that my floodgate of tears erupted, and I began to weep. He read me with an annoying accuracy and for once I was glad. Sobs wracked my body and I felt my face and eyes grow hot with them. Guy’s arms tightened around me in comfort and I heard him make a small sound of reassurance close to my ear. “Shh, it’s all right. You’re safe here with me, my beautiful, brave lady.”

I couldn’t stop it. I kept crying, and eventually turned myself around so that I could bury my face in his wide chest. He continued to hold me, comforting me like a small child, stroking my hair and back in long, soft motions, his body pressed into mine, holding me with all of himself. As I continued to sob, however, my merchant’s mind never stopped ticking away.

“Uhgnnwlllllroooon,” I said into his chest.

“What’s that?” he said, pulling me back from him just slightly, then giving me a small, interested smile. “Was that English, my lady?”

“I will ruin your shirt and its material is far too fine for that,” I choked, hiccupping. “Wait, did you make a jest?”

Guy then allowed himself a longer, more sensual smile, and let out a short laugh. “Nyssa, you can make my shirt into a dishrag a thousand times over if it means I could comfort you.” His eyes were warm, sincere, and he cupped my cheek in one of his big hands. “Do you know that I have never seen you cry before?” 

I sniffed, realizing it was true. I had been close a few times, a few tears shed, but never had let it out like this. I must have blinked and looked at him confusedly when he said this, because he nodded at me and said. “ ’Tis true, my lady. You’re as brave and strong as a lioness. She hunts fearlessly, protects the young, and has no time to feel emotions for herself. But in her power, even a lioness can forget that she has a mate.” He looked at me, his blue eyes shining as he ran his finger through my hair.

I looked back at him, trying to salvage some of my absent pluck. “You forget, Sir Guy, that like you, a lion has many mates, many females in his pride. A harem, if you will,” I said directly, challenging him.

“Ah, but you forget, lady, that I am no lion. My crest is the wolf and a wolf mates for life.” His gaze met mine evenly and without fear. I felt my stomach become watery. Did he mean what he seemed to be saying? I searched his unreadable face, but found no answer, so I looked away. Unsatisfied with my response, or lack of one, Guy cocked his head to one side as he asked, “Does the lioness mate for life, then?”

“I should think that a wolf would more happily pair with another wolf than with a lioness,” I parried, glancing back at him casually. “Nature would demand it.”

“Nature is fickle,” Guy responded, his gaze locked with mine. “How do you suppose Gwynna, your mule, came to be, if each only went with their prescribed mate?”

“Oh, you devil, “ I said. “Using my own mount against me.” It was a good response and even I had to admit it, but I was enjoying the game too much to let him win. I thought a moment, then said, “But there is a flaw in your logic, Sir Guy, if you are making comparisons to gentlemen and ladies. Gwynna, a product of an unnatural union, is deemed no proper mount for a lady of social standing. She is only appropriate for someone…like me.”

“And who told you that?” Guy said, moving a step closer to me.

“A little bird, a screeching French pheasant,” I answered, “impressed with her own plumage. Perhaps you remember; you were there.”

“Then you have completed my argument,” Guy said, advancing on me one more step. My back was against the wall. “Also by nature’s law, a common, squawking game bird is no proper mate for a wolf. Wolves don’t mate with prey animals.” Guy said imperturbably. His arm trapped me deliciously where I was as I looked up at him. He had raised the stakes but I would not be taken in.

“Oh, but you’re mistaken, I said caustically. “Apparently they mate with their prey, then once tired of it, decide to eat it. More like a spider than a wolf, don’t you think?” The last jab was unnecessarily harsh, but I could not stop it.

A cold expression crossed Guy’s face. “Well played.” Despite the anger in his eyes, I felt his body press against mine, the weight of his legs moving to spread mine where I stood, his face ever closer. “Perhaps you’re right. Wolves are always hungry.” His face lowered, Guy’s long nose grazed my jawline, his voice at my ear. “Perhaps I should simply eat, right here, right now.” I felt his manhood jut against me as he pressed me further into the wall, and I gasped a little. My mind was racing as I remembered him unclothed and magnificent, offering himself to me at the lily grove. The memory made my head spin and my feet unsteady as I felt his hard member throb shamelessly. Guy’s fingers trailed along my arm, down my shoulder, up my neck and then down the side of my breast. My breath became ragged as he touched me, and the place between my legs was hot with desire. I felt him bend one long leg as he stooped over me a little, and then his lips scalded my neck. “Are you hungry as well, little lioness?”

“Yessss,” I felt myself moan, pulling his head closer to me, my hands tangling in his long hair. I wanted him with such urgency. The layers of him, gentleman, rake, comforter and seducer, were gorgeous. His hand slid down to the place where he pressed himself against me, and moved to feel my womanhood through the thin, damp wool of my dress. I gasped again, my legs trembling. 

“I don’t think you’ve been properly fed in a long time,” Guy said, his eyes half closed, his hand stroking me up and down in a rhythmic motion. My nipples stiffened as he kept looking at me, waves of pleasure beginning to ripple through my lower body. His other hand cupped my face and pulled my mouth to his as he kissed me, his tongue questing, daring. I sighed, shaking, moving my hips to meet his hand, which stroked with unmatched surety and masterfulness. I was squirming and trying to pull him closer, all of him, when he broke off the kiss and grabbed me lightly by my hair.

“Nor,” he said in a low voice, “have I eaten well for quite some time.”

To my shock, his hand disappeared from my womanhood. I groaned in frustration, and he gracefully went down on one knee. With a wicked glance upwards, he began to lift my dress, fanning it so that it would soon cover his head. I surrendered, smiling as I remembered the first time he had done this, saying he would not take me fully unless we were…

On the brink of allowing him to pleasure me, my whole body stiffened. Married. 

He was to be married. And not to me.

I pulled my dress and myself away from him abruptly. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl!! I cursed myself. My legs snapped shut and I went down, rolling away from him, and scurried across towards the entrance to the doorway. Guy, seeing my intention, tackled me and grabbed my arm. “No, you don’t,” he said smoothly, restraining me as if I were a small, wiggling cat. I slashed out at him, trying to get away. “Let me go, you near- married bastard!” I cried furiously. Rolling his eyes and sighing in irritation, Guy grappled, still trying to hold onto me as I fought my way towards the door. I clubbed him on the side of the head and saw an annoyed look cross his face. Despite myself, I felt hysterical giggles claw their way out of the throat. “Damn you, Gisborne! You’ll be the death of me!”

“Or you of me,” he growled back, making a grab for my flailing arm. “Why are we always on the verge of killing each other or making passionate love but never manage to do either?”

“Marry that bitch and I promise I’ll kill you,” I said, unable to stop myself from laughing. The whole situation was so ridiculous, and had been for so long that I was unable to contain myself. I laughed until I felt more tears squirt out from my eyes, until I was red in the face and had no breath left. Lightheaded, I could not stop myself, and noticed Guy now sitting up, loosely holding my arm, and looking concerned. For some reason this doubled my amusement and new gales of laughter erupted.

“Nyssa, stop,” Guy said, now really sounding a bit alarmed. “You need to sit up and breathe properly.” He helped me do this, his hand on my back. A stream of giggles hitched its way out of my throat but my breathing began to steady, and the room felt more normal, if less manic. I breathed out, trying to wipe the last of my tears away. “I’m better now. But I do think you are slowly driving me mad, Gisborne. I’ll be in Bedlam soon, thanks to these assignments.”

“You agreed to it,” Guy reminded me, me a half smirk on his face.

“Oh, I know. Help me up,” I demanded, holding my arms to him as I saw him rise. He pulled me up, smirking. “But you haven’t answered my question, Nyssa. Does the lioness mate for life as a wolf does?”

I breathed out and moved my ear away from his seductive voice. “No more riddles, Sir Guy,” I said smoothly. “We’re here to solve them, not create more.”

“Then I declare in this senseless battle of ours, yet another draw,” Guy said, grinning deeply as he regarded me, firelight shadowing part of his face, his arm still holding me in place. I didn’t want him to stop holding me or looking at me. He was so ridiculously handsome that for a moment, I completely forgot why I had come, until he asked, slightly amused,

“What’s the new riddle?”

“Oh yes.” Common sense snapped back onto my expression, and I closed my eyes a moment before reciting the new message:

“The battle wages on, sword sharpened upon whetstone,  
The cries and wails of the dying blessed  
Fall upon deaf ears like rain upon a fortress

Around the walls of the mind-wretched fortress  
Two ladies fought over a gemstone  
Each saying that they were the more by God blessed

And should therefore possess the blessed  
Jewel, one desiring it for the heiress to a fortress,  
The other claiming that she herself was mistress of the stone.

Thus a simple stone, being so blessed, shall bring down friendship as the weight of a fortress.”

As I opened my eyes, Guy was staring past me, then at me, an eyebrow raised. “Interesting,” he said slowly. “I know the poetic form; it appears to be a tritina, and from what I can tell, an original composition.” He moved away from me to sit at the table, his eyes focused as he considered what the poem meant. He looked at me and gestured that I should join him. I walked over and sank into one of the chairs across form him at the table, feeling completely spent. The chair was close to the fire, and my eyes and limbs felt heavy from its warmth. Remarkable how one could tire oneself out simply by having a crying fit and then a near orgiastic encounter with a Black Knight…

That was my last thought before I sank into an exhausted oblivion of sleep.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyssa and Guy dissect the next cipher...and Guy reads poetry in old Provencal to Nyssa. *slurp, slurp* :)

Chapter 25

Slowly, slowly, I swam out of a deep pool and felt myself climbing towards a scent I recognized. As my heavy lids began to rise, I was perplexed for a moment of what I was seeing. The room was now dark, with only the light of the fire to cast shapes and shadows into my vision. A strange kind of shape hovered above me, almost a sharp edge with smooth fringe of what looked like hair fanning out from it. As my eyes adjusted to the low light, I realized I was staring at the underside of Guy’s jaw, and then realized just as sweetly, that he was holding me in his lap. He had assumed his usual position, his long legs stretched out on the table, his body in the chair, and was holding me in the crook of his arm. Warmth emanated from him as he cradled me in one arm, a book casually held in his other hand, his eyes fluttering across its page. It was such a pleasant image and realization that for moment I considered going back to sleep. This was the first time in a while I had slept well and felt protected. As I considered it though, I saw Guy’s eyes dart from the page to me. He must have sensed the change in my breathing; I saw a smile cross his face and he put the book down. “Ah, so you’re awake,” he said in a kind voice, looking down at me.

“Barely,” I said in a sleepy voice. Expecting he would want me to move, I was surprised when he merely cradled me closer, now with his other arm as well. “Did you sleep well?” he asked, kissing my forehead.

“Actually yes,” I said, moving a slight bit to look up at him. “I had thought that I fell asleep in that chair over there, though.”

“And so you did,” Guy answered. “You had slept there a few hours, and I decided that you might need a change in position.”

“Hours?” I asked. It must be nightfall now, and he heard the panic in my voice. “I should go—“

“Hush, hush,” he said softly, holding me closer. “I’ve sent word to your father. I still need your help with this new riddle.”

“But—“

“Nyssa, don’t argue. You needed to rest. And since I can’t convince you to sleep with me, at least I can say I managed to have you sleep on me.”

I let out a trill of laughter, despite myself. Some men found faith. Guy of Gisborne had apparently found his humor. I glanced up at him as I smiled. “I like it when you jest. It’s not a side I’ve seen often.”

“Well, it’s not a side I show often.” He smiled back at me, his face beautiful in the firelight. His eyes became serious again. “You never did tell me why you were crying when you arrived, or why you obviously haven’t been sleeping.”

“It’s…complicated,” I replied, thinking of Will, Hood and these new assignments. 

“I’ve no doubt,” Guy said. His eyes gently wandered over my face, and in that moment I felt as if I could tell him anything. His hand lifted and then began to stroke my hair. “You lead a complicated life, Nyssa.”

“I know.”

“You could make it simpler, you know,” Guy said, his expression incomprehensible. I looked back up at him and sighed. I reached out to gently touch his nose, which now felt like a familiar, loving gesture between us.

“No, Sir Guy. Unfortunately one factor precludes that from ever happening.”

Guy gave me a sad smile then and seemed about to say something, when I hurriedly cut him off. “What were you reading?”

Guy’s mouth snapped shut. “Er…sestinas. Troubadour poems. Our correspondent likes them,” he said, shifting so that I could sit up without leaving his lap and look at the book with him. I scanned the page, seeing several long poems of six lines, ended by a final set of the three lines. However, since they were in what I assumed was French, I could not understand them. I glanced at Guy. “Read one to me,” I said. His eyes became warm, and he put an arm around me again.

“E non plainh lo cors ni l'arma,  
mas la terra on bos pretz perd sa chambra;   
Que n'Aemar l'a tant batut ab verga  
E degitat de tot luec on el intra  
Qu'ab lui non pot metre ni pel ni ongla.   
E·l bes fluris e miels gran'en son oncle.”

I closed my eyes, listening to him read. He had the most beautiful, resonant voice. It fell and dipped with inflection and meaning so that I felt I understood the poem even though I did not. The liquidity of the language on his tongue was a beautiful aural experience, and when he had finished, I turned to him, curious. “French is such a beautiful language, but the poem sounds troubled,” I said. “What does it mean?”

Guy looked at me, apparently pleased with my analysis. “It is troubled,” he said. “And actually, troubadours don’t speak French. They spoke a kind of dialect, a hybrid language called Occitane. It sounds like a mixture of French and Spanish, partially because of where they live in the south of France. The translation…hmmm. Well, the poet Bertrand de Born is mourning for the loss of merit in the land. It speaks of a man, Sir Ademar, who wishes to destroy merit and honor, and that he beats it with a stick and throws it out of every place he goes.”

“He sounds like Robin Hood,” I said querulously, under my breath. “I wonder if the poet knows him.”

Guy laughed then, and held me closer. “I would agree. At any rate, I was studying these poems because they have a certain form that our correspondent has miniaturized. Shall we look then?” he said, sitting me up and forward as he rose.

“Of course,” I replied, though I could have stood to hear hours of Guy reading troubadour poetry. “What have you found in the verse?”

“Some parts which are helpful and others which are mysterious.” Guy stretched, then sat back down at he table, gesturing for me to do the same next to him. “You see, sestinas have six verses, and a final three line verse. It also has six words that are used per verse, and they always occur at the end of the lines. They are then rotated into the next verse into different lines, and always at the end. Bloody hard to write.” I understood, albeit vaguely.

“But a tritina is a bit simpler. There are only three repeated words, three verses and a final verse that uses all three words. That is the case with what was sent to us. The three words in this case are—“

“Stone, blessed and fortress,” I remembered, starting to understand. Guy grinned. “Yes,” he said. “But I’m afraid the message itself is still a bit of a mystery.”

“The first part of the poem deals with battle,” I remembered. “The dying blessed—“

“And the next about a gemstone that two women are arguing over,” Guy followed. He glanced at me. “Is that common?”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” I said wryly. Guy winced. “But I do think that something is meant to be conveyed, though I’m not sure exactly what.”

“Stone, fortress, blessed,” Guy repeated. “No—god-blessed. Dieudonné...” His eyes lit up. “Philip.”

“And stone,” I said quickly. “Rock. Or Rocks -- Des Roches.” I grinned at him. “King Philip and William Des Roches, and a fortress.”

“The fortress can only be Ballon, the one they conquered together, but why reference it now? Everyone knows.” Guy said, puzzled.

“Because they are fighting over possession of it,” I said slowly, suddenly understanding. “The gemstone, the two women…are two men. Philip and des Roches. It makes sense. Thus a simple stone, being so blessed, shall bring down friendship as the weight of a fortress.”

“Of course!” Guy said. “Philip wants Ballon for himself and Des Roches believes it should go to the heiress…the heir…to Arthur. They are at odds. This is crucial information that must go to John immediately. This could be the right moment for him to win over Des Roches to our side.” His eyes lit on me, flaming with excitement, then passion. “You did it, Nyssa. Again,” he said deeply. I blushed and smiled a little.

Unable to control himself, Guy crossed the room and took me in his arms, enwrapping me in his long limbs, and kissed me with a greater passion than he ever had. I responded, my eyes tearing a bit, feeling that these letters and translations were our children. How could I not love him as we gave life to something together? Gently, I broke away, before I felt my heart would burst.

“You must go,” I said softly. “You will have to take this news at once to London.”

“Yes.”

“And I must go as well. It is after dark, and not proper for me to be here.”

“Agreed.”

“And someone might see me leaving.”

“Of course.”

We stared at each other for a ridiculous moment. Then, contrary to everything I had just said, we were lost in yet another passionate kiss. Guy’s fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, his lips swollen and mad with ardor on mine. I felt as if he were trying to devour me, holding me as tightly as possible, and I him. His breathing became rough as he said between kisses,

“My beloved Nyssa…I was wrong. You heart…and your mind…are equally beautiful…and arousing.”

I was so stunned by his compliment that I pulled away to look at him, only to be sure he was not jesting again. His eyes betrayed no such cruelty, only warm softness and desire. “Go,” he said in a dangerous voice, “or I will forget that I have a duty to John, and instead keep you here…all night.”

I did not need to be told twice after seeing the look in his eyes. I fled for the door, throwing it open and running to a surprised Lily. I flung myself on her back and clicked her into a fast walk that soon became a trot. As we moved away from Gisborne Manor, I could not help a small smile. 

In at least one Englishman’s heart, I outranked the King of England.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyssa makes s delivery to Will's house...and makes a surprising discovery.

Chapter 26

After he left for London, Guy was gone for three weeks. I could only imagine the political climate there and the sensitive information he must be receiving, and wished I could help him with it. During those weeks, I resumed my usual schedule of deliveries and marketplace in the morning and afternoon, practicing swordplay by myself near the evening and supper with Father at night. Part of me was relieved that my life had returned to a more normal, less dramatic pattern. Another part of me felt restless and bored. These last few weeks had allowed me to use my brain for the first time, to feel useful in a different way and to realize that there was more cleverness in me than some might think of an ignorant peasant girl.

Will had not resurfaced at the market, and I was glad. I no longer felt bound to him in any way, and after his last words to me, I knew it was truly over. I did miss having a man who understood my world and provided sound defense advice, but not enough to rekindle any relationship with someone who called me a whore.

As it happened though, I would not be able to avoid Will forever. Father and I still owed his family a full set of spring garments for the sword he had made, and Father had promised to make the delivery himself to save me from dealing with the Scarletts. He was furious when I told him of Will’s curse at me, and indignant that I should ever have to deal with him again. “Scarlett has no claim on courtship with you, and no right to call my daughter the name of whore. He has much self examination ahead,” Father had said ominously. While I could tell he was no more pleased with Sir Guy, he saw my happiness at being able to provide for us, and said nothing of my work with him. 

That afternoon, Father returned in a foul mood. I could tell the delivery had not gone as he had hoped. “Will’s father is demanding two more summers shifts for his wife,” Father growled. “That was not part of the original contract. I think he’s trying to punish us, or you, more specifically. Well, to hell with the whole Scarlett clan.” Father threw the empty delivery pack on the floor and fell into a chair, exhausted. I poured him a cup of cool wine and put bread and some of Jemma’s cheese in front of him. “Be sure to eat,” I said, smiling. “No problem was ever solved on an empty stomach.”

Father chuckled. “Yes, your mother used to say that,” He glanced up at me, his eyes worn, but soft. “You remind me so of her, Nyssa.” He reached out, began tearing the bread and cutting bits of cheese to put on it. He ate ravenously, and continued after I put more cooked vegetables in front of him and a few new potatoes. I felt less than hungry myself and picked away at various things on my plate until Father noticed. “Eat,” he ordered me. “No man likes a scrawny woman.” 

I sighed. My appetite had always waxed and waned like the moon depending upon my menses and the stress in my life so that my weight fluctuated. When I was translating for Guy, I was always hungry. Now that I had no project, I had to remind myself to eat, as we had plenty but still lived within our means. I knew Father was concerned for my future as a wife someday, though I was no longer in my prime by most men’s standards. Men of my class wanted teenage wives, plump, uncomplaining women who birthed great numbers of children and asked for little in return. I had a feeling that my weight would not change anything in that particular equation. Glum, I tried to steer the conversation in another direction.

“We can provide the Scarletts with two more shifts,” I said. “It might be worth it, to be out of their debt. I’m sure that Charmaine could help me and I’d have them finished by the end of this week, unless Mistress Scarlett needs something very special.”

“That woman? I doubt it,” Father groused. “I hate the idea of giving in to his demands.”

“And I would normally agree,” I said, “but there are times when it’s not worth the fight, Father.” I held his gaze. “Out of debt for two shifts? I think we can manage that.”

“Now it’s two. Then it will be four, and caps and stockings too,” Father said, surly.

“Mmmm. I think this will be all, I really do. It’s irritating, but not unreasonable. I can even deliver them myself if it’s during the day when Will is away, but only then. I don’t want to see him.”

“Of course not,” Father replied. “Nor shall you. From what I hear his father rarely does either. It should be safe to deliver at the end of the week, in the mid morning.”

And so that was the time that we agreed upon. It would have been far easier to deliver the shifts to Will’s father at the market, but it was merchant custom to deliver goods to the home, and even in this sour business transaction, Father respected it. I went to Charmaine’s three times that week for company and assistance in embroidering the edges of the shifts. It was a job for us to keep Simon away from those shifts. His nose was a constant nuisance, but not as much as the drool he wished to paint them with. Elena watched and kept the dog busy with a toy she had fashioned from rope, and showed more than a passing interest in how to embroider. She asked intelligent questions and observed as we finished sleeves, hems and collars. By the end of the three days, I left the Sewards with the two shifts, and many coins for Charmaine’s trouble, though she attempted to refuse any sort of payment for her time, as a true friend often will.

It was a Friday when I set out in the late morning for the Scarlett’s home, walking cautiously as I came closer to the house. Despite Father’s assurance, a sick feeling had settled in my stomach, as if I would not be able to escape without seeing Will. I neared the house, which showed that someone was home from the smoke coming out of the chimney, but when I knocked on the door of the main house, nobody answered. I had expected Mistress Scarlett to be home, as she usually did not accompany her husband to the market. Puzzled, I wondered if she had gone to church, and glanced around the property, when I saw a flash of movement in the smithy. Quietly, I stole around to the side of the building, not wishing to disturb dangerous metal working, when I heard several staccato groans in a row. 

Concerned that someone might have been hurt, I was about to speak, when I heard another sound that changed my entire perspective. A steady, accelerating pulse thumped of a body being pushed against the wall of the smithy, and the rhythmic groans that accompanied it made the action of sex quite clear. Shocked, I stood perfectly still, not wanting to give away my presence in such an intimate moment. Perhaps Master Scarlett had come home for an early lunch with his wife. A smile began to break on of my face when I heard another sound that made my blood freeze.

“Calm down…slower…”

The gasping voice was Will’s. 

My face flushed red the roots of my hair and the sick feeling in my stomach worsened. Thoughts flashed through my head as quickly as bolts of lightning. Of course I had no claim on him anymore, but to walk into this? I gulped, eerily horrified and equally fascinated as I heard the pounding against the wall slow a little, and Will’s deep groans lessening a bit, then regain momentum. The woman he was with emitted little cries of frustration and delight, though I heard no words. I couldn’t help but wonder who she was…I had not known Will to be courting anyone else, but…how well did I really know him anymore? Curious, I moved to the furthest side of the smithy, where there was a small, dirty window. Every part of my body screamed at me not to look, but I could not help myself.

Will and the woman thrashed against the side of the smithy, the pattern growing faster and more passionate. I could not see her face as her head was thrown to the side, her legs wrapped around Will’s waist, his breeches lowered to his knees. She tore at him with her hands, pulling him closer, then pushing him back with her own thrusts, riding him and gasping rhythmically. Will’s hands were wrapped around her backside, balancing her to him, and he had freed her large breasts from the bodice of her dress. They shook with each of his powerful thrusts, the nipples hard and sore looking as Will bit at them. I felt a stab of jealousy despite myself as their bodes whipped together to reach their climax. Will would have seen me if he had opened his eyes, but he did not, and I had the sense to pull myself out of their view before they had recovered themselves.

Grossly embarrassed that I had not only stayed, but watched, I sneaked around the side of the smithy to leave the package on the door of the main house. I heard low voices, and the two of them speaking. I did not want to hear their whispered lover’s promises. I wanted to leave and forget what I had seen, if I could, and would have done so if I hadn’t caught a string of slightly more intelligible words.

“Tell me…find letters…what they say…”

Dropping the package, I slid around the side of the main house towards the back to avoid being seen. Letters! Will and Hood were still searching for them! And now this woman was helping them? Backing up, I kept my eyes on the smithy to make sure that the couple would not find me out, and nearly jumped out of my skin when I bumped into something.

I turned, and jumped a second time, tense as a violin string.

Behind me, nodding slightly at my intrusion and tied to a nearby post, stood a familiar white Arabian mare.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

I ran, pelting my way down the path from the house, probably stepping in every hole Will had ever told me to avoid. My breathing became ragged while my mind raced like a driverless carriage. Sabine! That French whore was with Will now?! As much as I wanted to deny it, I now recognized the voice of that woman, the full figure, (though I had not seen it unclothed before) the arrogance with which she pulled and pushed Will away from her. I didn’t care, I told myself, I didn’t care that she had stolen Guy from me, but now, Will too? That bitch! Did Guy know? What would he do to Will or to both of them, if he found out? 

Tears stung my eyes as I kept up my frantic pace. More than anything I wished for Lily now so I could ride her fast and run away from all of this. I was sick of these unpleasant surprises, sick of intrigue, sick of wondering what would come next. I wanted to go to being plain, boring Nyssa who never had any adventures, and had stayed in London after Father had called me home. I wanted my mother. I wanted her calm embrace, her warm words, her advice, which no doubt would have been better than anything I could come up with right now. 

As thoughts kept flying through my head, I suddenly realized I needed to stop running or I might stop my own heart from this pace. I screeched to halt by the main road, then doubled over and vomited. The heaving of my stomach was replaced by racking sobs. I wasn’t even sure if I was crying for Will, Guy, the situation or myself anymore. Perhaps it was all just too much for me. Chills swept up and down my spine, and I rolled from my knees to my back a few feet away from my own filth. My hitching breath slowed a little bit and I felt annoyed with myself. A crying fit three weeks ago with Guy, a vomiting fit this week. I was losing my steel plated backbone.

As sick as I felt, I could not stop thinking about Will and Sabine. Will hated the noble class! I was shocked that he and Hood were so desperate for information that Will had taken up with her. I was also mildly shocked that Sabine would let a working class man within three feet of her but then Guy had said that he no longer visited her bed…Perhaps her needs were greater than I had thought. I closed my eyes, wanting to unsee what I had seen, but the image of Will thrashing in front of Sabine and her cries of delight invaded my brain. What was I to do with this information?

Sadly, I decide that walking home was the best course of action. I walked slowly and deliberately, trying to calm myself, and wishing for a cool glass of water to rinse my mouth. Several tradesmen passed me on the road and said hello, while I barely saw them. My journey was a slow one, and full of unbidden images rising to my vision. When I finally arrived at the gate to my house, I went straight to the barn and to Lily. Jemma eagerly jumped up from her place at Lily’s feet and baaaed at me for alfalfa. I opened the door to Lily’s stall, and she snuffed at me kindly, her knowing brown eye regarding me. 

I felt my mother’s spirit in the room at that moment. It was as if she was there with the three of us, warm and gentle. Jemma’s nose butted against my hand, seeking something to chew, and I scratched her head absently. But Lily’s deep brown eye did not leave me, and she nodded her head at me. My eyes, never really dry, filled up with tears again. “Oh, Lily,” I said softly, my hands in her main, “what shall I do?”

I held her then, leaning up against her great frame and she stood, understanding. Jemma seemed slightly alarmed that nothing had appeared in my hand, but Lily’s steady temperament kept her calm. She whickered softly, understanding that I was upset, even if she didn’t know why, in that remarkable way animals have. I listened to her heartbeat and her breathing as I leaned on her, feeling that she was trying to calm me in my distress. 

We remained that way for most of the day until night began to fall. My stomach pains were no better but Lily’s warm presence had helped me calm down.

“Nyssa?”

Father’s voice called out to me from the barn door. He saw me in the stall and stopped. “Why didn’t you come to the house?”

I wiped my face. “No reason,” I said shakily. He frowned and moved into the barn, opening the stall door. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said, then at his expression changed my mind. “When I went to the Scarletts, I found Will and Sabine…” I couldn’t finish the sentence for a moment. “together. He was asking her to find letters at Guy’s house.” Upon saying this, my stomach cramped again. Father’s face looked stricken and worried. 

“Nyssa, you’re white as death. Come into the house and lie down.”

I felt as though I would never want another meal in my life as he helped me walk from the barn to the house, a task that normally required no aid. Halfway there, I voided the contents of the stomach a second time. Father held me up on his arm as he waited for me to finish. “Good girl. Better out than in with that poison.”

Faint, I nodded as he led me into the house and to his larger bed. Shaking and hot, I lay there, wondering if I would be sick a third time. Father stayed with me, holding my hand and looking concerned. Eventually he left me to boil water for tea, and I was relieved to see him go so that I could show the misery on my face. I fell into a restless, nightmarish sleep where I everyone I knew was being hurt, and the pain in my stomach never ceased. In my dreams I could only watch as Father was taken by the French, Charmaine and her family were imprisoned, and Guy was executed. I flailed about in my sleep, drenched with sweat and moaning for water. It was near the middle of the night when half conscious, I heard voices above me.

“She’s really quite ill…I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“I know, Mistress Suzanne…can you help?”

“You have to sponge bathe her to get the fever down. I’ll prepare some herbs…”

The next few hours were another blur. I remembered the feel of water on my hot skin, but nothing seemed to douse the fire in my body. Cool herbs were spread in a poultice on my chest and shoulders. I only half felt them there. I tossed and turned, moaning for relief and trying to pull every bit of clothing off that I wore. The dark of the night grew deeper in my vision, and I swam further into it as time wore on and lost its meaning. With each moment, it grew deeper and more impenetrable. And then towards the end, there was a small burst of light, and my mother’s voice calling to me. I reached out and tried to answer her, but only formed words with no sound. The light grew dimmer and I kept calling until I was sure my unheard voice was raspy. I saw her then, her white hands reaching out to me, and felt tears forming in my eyes. She was beautiful, her hair flowing about her face. Her eyes were my eyes as her voice called my name,

“Nyssa…Nyssa…”

“Mama...” I whispered back, trying to reach her.

“Don’t leave me, Nyssa…”

“I’m coming, Mama,” I said, crying out softly. Her voice had taken on an unusual quality and now seemed to be all voices, male and female, ringing out in the harmonic rafters of paradise.

“Nyssa…” Her voice now dropped nearly an octave or more, and deepened. The light began to fade and I felt myself pulling away from it, as though someone had taken my hand. But my mother was fading…

“No, Mama, don’t go,” I said, still weeping. “I need you...”

“And I need you,” the voice said, now sounding much closer. Its tone was familiar, deep and low. The darkness swam further away, as I reached out towards it. The grip on my hand tightened until pain shot through my fingers, and I felt the flutter of my eyelids moving as I said, “Please don’t leave me…”

And the vision vanished into the ceiling of my father’s bedroom. I looked up weakly to see Guy of Gisborne, tears in his eyes, kneeling beside me. His hand held mine in a vise-like grip and his face was pale. A trembling sigh escaped his lips as he saw my eyes open. 

“I will never leave you again, my love.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guy cares for Nyssa in her illness and admits the truth to her.

Chapter 28

My eyes rolled from Guy to my Father and to our local healer, Mistress Suzanne, all of who looked wan and pale. I tried to speak and found that I had very little voice. I felt Guy’s grip on my hand and returned it, but only slightly form weakness. “I thought you were in London,” I said weakly.

“I was,” he replied. His face was ashen, with little color, but his eyes were two watery blots of joy. “I returned today and your father sent for me when he thought the worst.”

“Father?” I called, and he immediately knelt by me, next to Guy. “What…what..”

“We almost lost you, Nyssa,” Father replied, tears in his eyes. “You went very still…and you were calling---“

“I saw Mother,” I said, my own eyes filling with tears. “She was there. I saw her and she called me by my name…”

“You called for many people,” Father said. “First it was me, then Charmaine and finally Guy. Mistress Suzanne and I had been working on bringing you out of your fever for hours. It seemed hopeless, but…” Father looked at Guy with a touch of respect. “Sir Guy lost no time in coming, and has not left your side since he arrived.”

My mouth was so dry, and I wanted to speak, but my voice cracked. Guy saw this and immediately said, “Water. Cold water,” to Mistress Suzanne. She complied instantly and he held a cup to my trembling lips. I felt wretched, as if I had run from London to Nottingham four times over, and as I drank deeply, I felt my stomach cramp. My face blanched, and I sat up, vomiting violently onto the bedclothes. When I looked up, I saw that I had managed to soil Guy’s arm as well, but he looked more concerned than irritated. “I’m so sorry,” I said, feeling an absurd urge to cry.

“Enough of this,” Guy said, standing. “Master Edan, with your permission, I’d like to send for my family’s physician, who is one of the best in the county. I appreciate what you have tried to do, but…” His eyes moved over me in concern. “Nyssa is very ill. She needs stronger medicine than this, and a very clean, warm place to recover.” He looked at Father seriously. “I know it is unorthodox, but I would like to take her to Gisborne Manor, when I feel she will have the best chance for recovery. I have many resources to help her and I will use all of them.”

Father glanced at him. “What of your fiancée, Sir Guy? Will she not object, even perhaps try to harm my daughter?”

“I give you my word that I will handle Sabine. On my life, no harm shall come to Nyssa while she is with me,” Guy said, power and truth ringing in his every word. “She is a lady to me, and will be treated as one by my staff and physician. You have no reason to fear for her honor or reputation. I swear it.”

Father paused, then closed his eyes, his shoulders slumped. “Do what you must, Sir Guy,” he said, looking exhausted. “I cannot lose my only child.”

Guy leaned over me and said gently but firmly. “You’re coming home with me, my love.” Dizzy, I only half believed him, until I felt this arms scoop me up, avoiding the mess I had made on the bed, and easily carry me into the front room of the house. “Guy,” I said, holding onto his neck, “are you sure…”

“Hush. You have no choice in this matter any longer, little lioness,” he whispered, opening the door with a smooth move of his foot and carrying me outside to Aomir. The horse was still covered in sweat from his long journey, but immediately snapped to attention as Guy mounted him and then gently balanced me in front of him. I looked dizzily back to Father, who stood in the doorway, looking small and frightened. “Sir Guy, please take care,” he said insistently, handing Guy something I could not see.

“I gave you my word, Master Edan,” Guy said seriously, took it, and clicked Aomir into a trot, which proved very uncomfortable for me. I leaned back against Guy’s chest, holding onto Aomir’s mane and Guy’s arm. I still felt like I would vomit, but tried to focus on Guy, that he was warm and loving and here with me, and was going to help. The journey seemed to take forever though I knew it not to be far. I was so hot that I kept pulling at the neck of my shift for the cool night air on my skin, and heard Guy chuckle. “None of that, my darling, “ he said, pushing my chemise back into place. “You’ll draw far too much attention and make me send Aomir into the river.”

I supposed he had said something funny again, but I felt no reaction, only that I would fall asleep and off the horse soon. As I had that thought, I saw the vague lights of Gisborne Manor, and felt Aomir slow, snorting as he neared the barn. A stable boy ran out to greet us, and Guy slid effortlessly down from Aomir, pulling me with him and up into his arms a second time. I never wanted to leave them. He called for Thornton, who appeared at the door, both surprised and nervous.

“Prepare a room, immediately,” Guy said, as he swung us through the front door. “My lady is very ill and needs immediate medical attention. Send for Dr. Langdon, I don’t care the hour.” I felt him carry me up the stairs as Thornton followed him like a busy terrier. “Yes, my lord. And what room will the lady be staying in?” he asked hurriedly. 

“My mother’s,” was Guy’s quick reply. “Fresh bedclothes, breakfast if she wants it, and all other necessities. At once, Thornton. I will lay her down in mine for the time being.” I saw Thornton’s eyes widen, but he scurried to do Guy’s bidding. I blurrily followed Guy’s turns as he carried me into the different parts of house, and finally to his own room, which was dark with a single candle burning. He swept into it, kicked the door closed, and gently laid me onto his bed. “You’ll be here only a little while and have your own room shortly,” he assured me. I registered briefly that I was in Guy’s room, and were alone. And…he was undressing. Removing his leather doublet, he pulled on a clean shirt from a nearby chest, and shucked off his boots at the foot of the bed. Regarding my sick, trembling frame for moment, he then lay down next to me and pulled me to his chest. I protested weakly. “Guy, what I have could be catching…”

“Shhh, you’re trembling from cold, and you need warmth. Move close to me. If I become ill, the staff will care for us both. And if worse comes to worse, I’ll simply die along with you. Saves us an eternity of separation, no?” he said darkly but with a tinge of humor.

His deep blue gaze was the last thing I saw. Darkness swam back into my vision again, and I could not fight it this time. An unconscious stupor took me. As I floated in its oily depths, I was vaguely aware of voices, conversations, movement, cool water and potions begin tossed down my throat. There was no light in my oblivion this time, no Mother calling for me, and I had so wished to see her again. I was there for a long stay and I dreamed no dreams.

Much as I had left my consciousness, the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes several days later were Guy’s piercing blue eyes. His lips twisted into the smirk that was so familiar. “Had a nice rest?” he asked me, stroking my hair.

Blurrily, I asked, “How long have I been…sleeping?”

“The better part of a week, “ Guy answered. My eyes widened, thinking of Father and how much work he would have had to do without me. I leaned my head back on the pillow, still feeling weak. “Oh, God, my poor Father.”

“He has been to see you every night,” Guy said. “And do not worry for his work. I sent my stable boy John to help him. John’s father is a tradesman, so he has some understanding of the work involved.”

“You…sent your own servant to help my father?” I asked, my eyes tearing up. “Guy…why?”

“You know why.”

I closed my eyes, the tears spilling out of the corners, and reached for his hand. As I found it, my hand passed over something cold and metallic and I gasped from shock. “What’s that?” I whispered.

“Your sword,” Guy answered. “Your father gave it to me when we left your house and I have kept it between us always as a promise to him, that I treat you with respect and honor while you are in my house.” He smiled softly at me, taking my hand, and kissed it.

Stunned, I asked him, “Have you found religion, Sir Guy?”

“No,’ he said softly, touching my face. “But I have found something better.” He then held my hand and rubbed it along the stubble of his face. “When you almost lose the most precious thing in your life, it changes you. Certain things become very clear in a way that they never were before. And I plan to make better choices than I have in the past.” His eyes darkened for a moment.

“I loved someone once before, the Lady Marian. I thought she returned my love, but it was ruse; she only ever loved Hood. In a fit of passion, I killed her. I was insane with grief and jealousy, because she revealed that she had never loved me, and that she hated me.” His tone asked for no mercy, only stating fact. “I never thought I would forgive myself, or believe that anyone could love me again. When you nearly died and then came back to me, I understood what it truly is to love another.”

The shock on my face must have registered, for the pain in Guy’s eyes was palpable. He looked away from me. “I don’t ask for understanding or approval for my past actions. I only wanted you to know who I truly am, good and bad, and that I love you, Nyssa. I could never love anyone else.”

“Guy,” I said, holding his hand, “would you ever harm me? Kill me?”

His sigh was deep, and his answer pained. “I believe once was enough to learn that lesson.” He looked back at me. “I was foolish and selfish then. You have taught me strength and kindness, and that power and force are two different things. When I saw you with Scarlett, I was angry, but I remembered to check my anger and that I had no right to be angry.”

At the mention of Will’s name, my stomach cramped again. Guy saw the look of agony on my face and eyes softened in concern. “Are you in pain, Nyssa?”

“What did the doctor say I had?” I asked, twisting in the bed.

Guy immediately moved to hold me, to soothe me. “Langdon said it was likely stress and hyper-exhaustion, but the fever and stomach cramping were his biggest concerns. He left a strong mint tea for you, used by the Saracens, to help with the cramping. Shall I fetch it?”

Feeling stunned, I shook my head. “No, a man shouldn’t wait on a woman in his own house—“

“Ridiculous,” Guy responded, rolling himself off the bed and reaching for a nearby cup. “I had some made earlier, in case you woke. Drink this.” He came back, sat next to me and held the cup to my lips. The tea was so sweet and so potent that I nearly gagged, but forced it down as I saw the stern look in Guy’s eyes. Miraculously, in a few minutes, the cramp in my stomach receded and I fell back on the pillows in relief. “Oh, thank God,” I said.

“My name does start with a G but if you want to call me God, we may have to set some new rules about this relationship.” Guy’s blue eyes sparkled mischievously, and I could not help but laugh. “Where has this humor come from?” I asked, slightly incredulous.

“I don’t know,” Guy answered, smiling. His gaze was like a caress as he looked at me, a small smile on his face. “It seems the wolf can be playful after all.”

I reached out to touch his beautiful face then, and sighed. “Perhaps the wolf has met his match.” I felt Guy lean closer to me and he gently moved to kiss my forehead, a tender gesture that was new to me. His lips moved over my forehead and around my jawline, ending to softly touch my lips. I moved to pull him closer, but he drew back. “You need to rest, my lady,” he said deeply, his eyes commanding, not suggesting.

I frowned. “How much longer before I will be well?” I asked. 

“A few more days.”

“And what then?” 

“That,” Guy said, “is entirely up to you, Nyssa.”


	29. Chapter29

Chapter 29

Guy’s parting statement had left me speechless, confused and utterly stunned. He had smiled, and then gracefully raised himself from the bed, leaving me to my thoughts. Not long after, Thornton came up with a fine supper for me; a lamb stew, freshly baked bread and garden vegetables, a pudding and a glass of wine. I stared at him. “Is this all for me?” I asked, incredulous.

“Yes, my lady,” Thornton said kindly. “You’ve been very ill and unable to eat anything solid, so we are trying to put a bit of weight on you.”

“ ‘We’ meaning Sir Guy,” I said.

Thornton laughed. “And Dr. Langdon. Sir Guy barely left your side for the last week unless he was needed by the Sheriff. I have never seen him dote so ardently on anyone since I have been his manservant.”

I pulled a bit of bread off from the loaf and chewed thoughtfully. “Do you find him changed, Thornton?”

“Well, my lady, as you may know, his temperament is rather changeable.” I snickered in response. “But yes, for the past week, I have certainly seen a gentler, kinder side to him. The last time I saw it was when he and Lady Marian—“ Thornton cut himself off quickly and looked away from me.

I raised a hand. “It’s all right, I already know everything,” I said. “He must have felt great passion for her to have…killed her,” I finished awkwardly.

“He did, my lady,” Thornton said. “But his affection was misplaced and while I believe Lady Marian followed her principles, she used him. We were all quite afraid of him after…the incident.” Thornton finished. “When we heard he was engaged to Lady Sabine, we thought that perhaps he had recovered, but it’s very clear to me now who his heart belongs to.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “I’m to wait until you finish as much as you can, my lady,” he said, seating himself on a chair nearby.

It was then that I noticed I was in a lady’s room, and obviously not Sir Guy’s. The curtains of the bed were hung with deep purple, the window draperies a deeper shade of the same, and the place had been kept neat and clean but very much in the same style. “Whose room is this?” I asked, fearing the worst.

“Lady Gisborne’s.” Thornton replied.

“Sabine’s?” I gasped, nearly overturning my dinner in haste to exit the bed.

“No, no,” Thornton laughed. “She is certainly not Lady Gisborne, not yet. No, I speak of Sir Guy’s mother. He was very close to her and has kept her room the same since she died. He swore that no one but the next Lady Gisborne would occupy it.”

My knees buckled again, and I reached immediately for the nearest straight object, which happened to be my sword. Balancing the tip on the floor, I used it as a crutch as I leaned up against the bed, climbing back into it. I was much weaker than I had expected.

“How odd,” I said, trying to sound calm, “that I am here then.”

“Finish your supper, my lady,” Thornton said firmly. I complied, but could only eat about half of what was there. I did manage to finish all of the wine though, which made me feel pleasantly drowsy. Thornton was moving to clear my dishes when I heard a knock at my door. I looked up at him, questioning.

“Your father, most likely,” he said. “He comes every night at about this time to see you. I will answer it.” Balancing the trays in a clever fashion, Thornton opened the door and indeed, my Father stood in there. His face was drawn, his cheekbones a bit sunken, but his eyes lit up as he saw me. “Nyssa! You’re…awake!”

He rushed into the room and practically threw himself onto the bed with me before realizing Thornton was still there. Father quickly got up and stood over me, raining small kisses on my head. “Oh, my sweet daughter…Sir Guy said you had woken but I didn’t dare to hope…I thought I would lose you…oh, Nyssa.” Tears flowed freely from his eyes, which made my own throat catch. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you,” he said, sobbing. “Oh, my darling child.” His arms went around me and I felt his love, pure, strong, and for once, nothing was held back. I held him, my own tears freely flowing. This might have been the first honest, open embrace we had ever shared.

Father sat then, telling me the news of the past week. Business was well, John was a very serviceable replacement and understood numbers, but Father missed me. Lily and Jemma had been giving sermons in the barn as no one had visited or ridden them, and Father’s orders were piling up. He also noted firmly that I was a far better cook than he was. I laughed and suggested that he take up with the village bread-maker again if that was his only concern. He sighed in pleased annoyance. “Can’t you see I cannot get along without you?” he said.

“Oh, I’m sure you could,” I said back spiritedly. “Sir Guy made sure of it.”

“Yes, he did,” Father replied. “I must say that Sir Guy is a complicated man, but I will never be able to repay this debt. I will always remember this.”

“I’m quite sure he won’t let you forget,” I said with a smirk. 

Father laughed. “You are a wise woman, Nyssa,” he said fondly. “This year, you seem…flourished,” he finished lamely. “I don’t know how else to say it. Complete. Like a tiger-rose in full bloom.”

“I think I look more like a starving madwoman, but if you insist,” I replied.

“I’m not speaking of your current physicality. Those are just the bits that hold everything together. What’s in here—“ he touched my temple, “and here”, he touched my heart, “are what really matter.”

He kissed my forehead then, and I allowed myself a small smile. “Why Father, you’ve become a poet. Perhaps I should become ill more often.”

We talked a while longer, but he could see that I was becoming tired. He made his farewells and promised to visit again tomorrow, and left me to sleep. As he left, I heard the click of a door being locked and realized it was my own. Frowning, I wondered what crime I had committed to be locked into my own room. Not mine—Lady Gisborne’s. My lips now twisted into a grimace, thinking of Sabine, but wondering more about Guy’s mother, whose tastes were elegant and bedecked the entire room. Lying back, I dozed, half in and half out of the bed, my sword kept close by, a hand on its hilt. I flitted in and out of dreams in which I was running in the forest again, and looking down, found that I was a unicorn. Arrows flew by me and I ran from man pursuers, sure that I recognized Robin Hood’s close aim. He would have nicked me, but for a powerful dragon who veered in front of my path, breathing down fire at my enemy. The arrows ceased, and my pursuers fled. The dragon regarded me, unsure whether I was friend or foe, just as I choked on my own air and flinched awake, sweating from the exertion of my dream.

I struggled up out of bed a second time, using my sword for balance, and pulled at the heavy draperies that covered the windows, poking at the fire. It was dark and the cold would permeate the glass soon, though I guessed it would have been much worse at home than here. I noted that the nobles smartly decorated the windows with heavy fabric and the bare floor with thick carpets from the East to keep out the cold. The lovely designs on the carpet made me try to walk with the tip of my sword carefully placed so that no holes were made in the fine carpet. I now felt honestly odd about sleeping in the room of the former Lady Gisborne, but the effort of getting up had exhausted me. Back to bed I went. Guy was right; I would have to keep eating to regain my strength. I had just settled back into the bed and was rearranging the covers, when the door lock clicked, my door opened, and I looked up to see Guy returned.

He closed the door, leaned up against it, and regarded me, arms crossed. “You should be resting,” he said, his voice low, his eyebrow raised.

“I was resting. I had a nightmare.” I said petulantly. “And why am I locked in, Guy?”

“For your own protection,” Guy said, still not moving. The firelight cast beautiful shadows on his tall, lean frame, his eyes glinting blue like sapphires as they fastened on me. “Or perhaps I don’t want to let you leave.”

“Well, you should know that locking me in won’t stop me from escaping if I want to,” I said playfully. “Next time you come in I’ll have knotted up the bedclothes and made a ladder to the ground floor.” 

“A fine plan, if you could walk from one end of the room to the other on your own,” Guy replied. I squinted at him in annoyance. He unfolded himself from the doorjamb and began walking slowly towards me. “You’re quite ambitious for someone who was having an affair with Death last week.”

“Well, I assure you Sir Guy, I’ve cut it off with Death and will be quite well again soon, so you’d best stop locking me in. I meant what I said about the bedclothes.”

Guy prowled, his stance panther-like as he neared me in the bed. He leaned one knee onto the bed itself, giving my stomach a twinge as my eyes travelled up his long leg. “I’m glad to hear that Death no longer holds your heart, as I’m terribly jealous. Perhaps I’ll take away the bedclothes then,” he said a slight smile on his face. His hand caught the edge of my heavy quilt, pulling it away from me. I squeaked and grabbed it back. “Then I’ll use the tapestries!”

“I’ll have them removed.” He leaned his other knee on the bed, now facing me on all fours like a great cat.

“My clothing then,” I snapped at him.

“Perhaps I’ll remove that too,” he said, now moving towards me, still on all fours. It both terrified and exhilarated me.

“You devil.”

“I thought I was God.” His smirk had returned, as he moved ever closer.

“I have a sword.”

“Better for you if you had a cross, but it’s no matter as I’ll rise again in three days. You’ll never be rid of me,” he said. Moaning in annoyance, I thrashed to sit up, but Guy moved easily to trap me with his body. Kneeling on me, legs planted onto either side of my body, he leaned forward and caressed my face before drawing it to his own, lips brushing mine. I trembled, every fiber of my being feeling the weakness of my illness and the strength of my heart. His lips were so soft, the stubble on his face stinging a bit, his breath warm on my mouth. My lips began to reach for his, kissing him back, and as I did, his mouth crushed down on mine, reminding me of the day he found me in my shift at my house. There was such urgency in his kiss, such passion and such love. I moaned, my arms reaching around his neck, pulling him closer to me, my fingers stroking his hair. We continued loving one another, our mouths exploring each other, familiarizing again, re-learning each other’s bodies. Guy held me with all of himself, eventually stretching out next to me, then gently breaking off our kiss.

“If you’re well enough to be plotting escape, I thought you might be well enough for other things,” he said wickedly, glancing at me. 

I sighed, stroking his cheek. “You’ll make me run mad, Guy of Gisborne,” I said. “But I am ready for no more than this at the moment.”

“Oh, I am aware,” Guy said pluckily. And then as I watched in mingled fascination and horror, he began pulling off his boots and leather breeches, loosening the collar of his shirt. My eyes must have widened because Guy glanced at me, and began to laugh. “Am I not allowed to prepare myself for sleep?” he asked, grinning.

“You mean…to sleep here?” I asked stupidly.

He nodded. Pulling off his shirt, he lay next to me, completely naked and magnificent. I trembled with want at he sight of his beautiful body, the long limbs in perfect condition, arms lean and muscular. “Don’t be afraid,” he said, reaching out to stroke my face. “Your sword is still here, and I won’t cross it. But I won’t leave you alone either.”

I blinked, thinking. “Guy…have you stayed here before, while I was ill?”

“Nyssa, if Death planned to take you while you were here, I planned to surprise him. I have slept next to you every night since I brought you here.”


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Over the next few days, I became used to falling asleep next to Guy and waking up to see him first thing in the morning. He was so beautiful as he slept that I often wished I could carve out a statue of him in marble. His face relaxed and the lines of care and woe disappeared. Charmingly, he snored, but only lightly, so that I found myself gently elbowing him to turn over. It was hard to keep my eyes off of his body, as he frustratingly insisted on sleeping in the nude. Sometimes when he was deeply asleep, my hands had their way with him, touching the various parts of him that I had been tentative of before, always remembering I could jump back onto my side of the bed (and my sword). Sometimes I heard him moan in his sleep as I ran my fingers over his manhood, his buttocks, his slender hips, and felt a stab of guilty pleasure.

In the mornings, he nearly always greeted me with a kiss and a long, full body embrace before he got up to wash and dress. Guy continued locking me in and threatened to remove anything from the room that could be used as a means of escape, so I acquiesced for now, feeling that the locking in was for another reason he was not sharing with me. Thornton would then bring my breakfast, which I now ate heartily. I swore to Guy that the two of them were trying to make me into a prize heifer with the way they fed me, but I could feel my body regaining strength. I continued my sword aided walks across the room every day, and each day felt a bit stronger. Soon I wouldn’t need it at all for support, but the cool touch of the metal was a calming, powerful influence. In the evenings were Father’s visits, and also eventually Charmaine and Elena’s as well. Guy even allowed Elena to bring Simon along and into my room to cheer my spirits, much to Thornton’s horror. After they left, the room was furry, messy and completely full of joy for me.

It was morning on the fourth day of this schedule, and Guy was kissing me awake, running his long fingers through my hair. He breathed deeply, groaned a little, then mumbled,

“This room still smells like that bloody Boxer dog.”

I laughed, kissing his cheek in return. “I don’t smell a thing. Perhaps it’s you.” 

“Oh, plucky this morning, aren’t we? You must be feeling better.” Guy grinned, catching one my hands and holding it. He smiled then, looking down at me. “I know you love that big furry thing. Maybe I should get you a dog to keep you safe while I’m gone. If the room’s going to smell of mongrel, it may as well be your mongrel.”

I smiled sleepily. “As long as it’s a big dog. I despise those little fluffy white things that court ladies carry. If you do get me a dog, be sure it’s a proper dog.”

“I understand. You like your dogs large and rough. Like me,” Guy said sensually, returning his attention to my mouth. I kissed him in return, half asleep still, feeling his hands softly run over my breasts, down my hips, and then possessively touch my womanhood. This pulled me into a full alert state, my eyes shooting open, and my mouth slightly open. He looked down at me, now all seriousness. “May I cross the sword, my love?”

“I want you to, so much,” I said. “I wish it could always be like this, waking to you in the morning, and seeing the your face the first thing before I sleep.”

“Why can it not be?” Guy asked, holding my shoulders. “Nyssa…we need not follow the rules of polite society. You know that I love you. Say yes,” he said seductively. “I want to make love to you so, Nyssa, it hurts my heart. Along with a few other body parts,” he said, smiling.

“If I say yes, then what do I become to you?”

“My lover and my true wife,” Guy said.

“In everything but name?” I replied. The romantic air about him snapped and his eyes stuttered away from mine. I pulled away, hurt. “I told you before, I will be no man’s mistress,” I said coldly.

“I could provide you with so much,” Guy said in his most ravishing tone. “I know plenty of men in unhappy marriages who think of their mistresses as their true wives. I would see that you wanted for nothing; whatever you needed, or your family. I would set you up in a fine house as a lady with your own staff, where we could be together—“

“When?” I asked. “When would we be together? The day after Christ’s Mass, the day after the New Year? You’d ask me to always to be second, and never first in your life? What of the children you will no doubt have? How would you explain me to them? And what of my reputation; how would I be seen in the village?”

Guy closed his eyes, pained. “Nyssa, I offer you the only situation possible. You would rather throw away all of us rather than save a part of us at least?”

“I would rather have none of you than only a little of you,” I said, my voice breaking. 

“A little of me has seemed good enough in these last few days,” Guy said darkly. Angry, he rolled away from me and began dressing. “I’ll be gone for the morning, and not back until later this afternoon. Don’t wait for me to visit you.” He pulled on his shirt and breeches and stormed out of the room, slamming the door and locking it.

Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. Why must everything be so difficult when two people loved one another, but neither would bend upon principle? We were well matched, I thought querulously. Well, damn him too then, if he wanted everything on his terms and cared nothing for my reputation. I flopped over onto my side and went back to sleep, fisting tears off of my face.

It was late afternoon when I awoke, and decided to make one of my assisted walks across the room in which I had barely used the sword. The sooner I walked, the sooner I could leave here. I took a close look at the bedclothes, and the window frame, which I then realized in annoyance had been bolted in from the outside. The bastard had probably done it three days ago when I first mentioned escaping. Damn him! I was moving back into bed for another nap when I heard Guy’s thunderous voice raised in the hallway. “What are you doing here, and in my private rooms?”

“Oh, Guy, I have not been to see you here since I returned from visiting my family in France. I wanted to surprise you.”

My stomach turned as I recognized the cajoling voice of Sabine. Guy sounded equally displeased.

“And your surprise includes rifling through my belongings?”

Oh God. I felt a cramp begin. She was still trying to find information for Hood, and I still hadn’t told Guy of the affair.

“If you do indeed have a maîtresse, as you imply, I thought to find her letters there,” Sabine said, a little too casually. “I wonder what hold she has on you. I thought perhaps I could learn how to enchant you in the same manner.”

That lying bitch, I thought, furious. Guy seemed to have taken a bit of the bait though, and a tinge of guilt colored his deep voice. “Sabine, our contract is still valid. But you must know it is a political marriage, which is rocky now because of John’s war with Philip.”

“Ah, les politiques,” Sabine said dismissively. They were now very close to my room and I was afraid to breathe too loudly, lest I be discovered. “You are to be my husband Guy, and yet you have not…quel est le mot…shagged me, for months.”

“I never should have,” Guy said thickly. “It is traditional to wait until the wedding, but you couldn’t do that.”

“You are fortunate I could wait until we were in England,” Sabine said back, sounding like a lazy cat. “My father still thought me a virgin, which is why he made such a fine match with you. I knew I wanted you, and I got you. Why don’t you want to fuck me anymore, Guy? Am I not beautiful?” I could almost see her preening, showing him her best angle as she said this.

“Sabine, I know that you have had multitudes of suitors tell you that you are beautiful, so one more will not make a difference.”

“But I want you to say it,” she purred. I felt her move closer to the door. “Guy, if that woman I saw is your mistress, give me a chance to compete with her, at least in the bedroom. I am very skilled and you haven’t given me enough time to show you just how skilled I am. I know what a man wants.” Her voice dropped. “Je veux que tu me baiser. Maintenant. Right here.” 

From Guy’s stony silence, I could tell that she had demanded something lewd of him. I heard the handle of the door turn and panicked, but the lock clicked against the turn. Sabine swore in French. “Merde. Où est la clé? Why is this room locked?” she said sulkily.

“It is my mother’s room, and has been locked for years, ever since she died,” Guy said methodically. And then: “It is the last place I would use as a brothel.”

“I am no whore!” Sabine snapped back. I snickered to myself, thinking what a lie that was. “I am merely asking you to act as a husband to me! We are to be married, Guy!”

“That fact may not be true for much longer,” Guy snarled back. “John now has no reason to placate the French as he and Philip are at war. If I wanted, I could request him to break the contract, Sabine.” His voice fell dangerously low. “Perhaps I already have.”

My eyes widened at these words before Sabine started shrieking, “Batârd! You would not dare! My father is an important man in France—“

“Your father means nothing to John unless he is a Poitou nobleman with access to Burgundy,” Guy returned coldly. “Anyone else is now dispensable, so this conversation is over, Sabine. Leave. And if I ever see you in my private rooms again, I promise that contract will be broken and I will send you back to France directly.” His last words were a knife. “I will also be certain your father knows that You. Are. No. Maiden.”

I jumped as Guy landed a punch into the wall, and heard him stalk down the hallway. For a moment, I almost felt sorry for Sabine, as I heard her sobbing against the door, mumbling to herself in French. If she had been a less selfish, spoilt child, I would have felt for her in that moment. Sadly, our lives were acutely similar in so many respects. Both of us were at the mercy of fathers, husbands, and lovers. Yet we had chosen such different paths. I sighed, then realized it had been a rather noisy sigh. Sabine’s sobbing immediately stopped, and I heard her go still. 

Nervous, I tried not to breathe for a moment, and had the distinct impression that she was listening for just that. I sat completely still so that I would not move the bedclothes or make any other noises. Had she heard me? I could not tell. Sweat rolled off of my forehead and down my back as I struggled not to breathe or make any other sound. There was a click in my throat as I swallowed, which felt as loud as a pot crashing to the floor. Sabine stayed still, then sighed and seemed to be wiping her face from the rustling movements I heard. 

Just as I was sure she would never leave, I heard her ease off of the door in a swish of skirts, then softly move down the hallway. I breathed out, feeling a sense of relief. She was gone. Perhaps for good. And perhaps Guy was trying to rid himself of her; it had certainly seemed so. Would he really have tried to break the contract? It made sense politically but I knew that the politics were no longer the only reason. He had changed since my illness. My shoulders relaxed a bit and I wondered if our conversation this morning had spurred any of this into action. Would he come to see me now? As I had this thought, I heard footsteps speedily move down the hallway, followed by Thornton’s voice calling out, his own not far behind. The lock clicked and the heavy oak door began to swing open. I sat up expectantly, and began to say, “Guy, about this morning—“

I stared in shock, speechless.

Sabine stood in the doorway, keys in her hand, her eyes raking over me like coals. Slowly, shock and recognition flooded them. Then rage, mad, violent rage such as I had never seen, before she began shrieking.

“Vous? Vous est la maîtresse? A bloody peasant girl has stolen my fiancé?”


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

I stared stupidly at Sabine, shock filling my entire body, heart pounding. Her face was a Japanese mask of rage, her mouth open and spewing epithets at me, her screams of fury filling the room. As I watched, she dropped the keys, turned to the nearest wardrobe and began hurling any object she could find in my direction. Terrified, I ducked and whirled in the bed, trying to avoid the smattering of dishes, knickknacks and crockery being thrown at me. A teacup whizzed by my head, smashing into the bedframe behind me. I ducked luckily, but the saucer completed the teacup’s mission. Stars exploded into my vision for a moment, and I heard Sabine’s squeal of glee. She was a terrible aim, but that missile had found its mark. Blood trickled down the side of my face and ran into my eyes, stinging them. Dizzily I looked up, trying to keep my focus on her, and to my horror, saw that she had taken up the smaller candelabra and was heading towards me on the bed. She wielded it like a weapon and it took me less than two seconds to realize she intended to bash my brains in with it. 

Adrenaline shot through my body and I rolled up off the bed, seeing my sword lying there as I did so. I hurriedly grabbed it just in time, as Sabine came towards me with the candelabra crashing down at my head. I blocked her blow and pushed back against the wrought iron, shoving her backwards. Sabine’s eyes widened when she saw the sword, but she soon recovered herself, and jockeyed around to my left side, catching my shoulder with a blow of the metal. I cried out in pain and then turned, throwing my full weight behind the sword blow as I screamed, 

“Drop it, you harridan!”

My sword connected with the candelabra and knocked it roughly out of her hands, slicing a red line into her wrist. I felt an insane amount of glee as I saw her jaw drop. This shock gave me a moment’s advantage, and I rammed my full weight into her, using the hilt of the sword to jab her stomach. All of the wind came out of Sabine and she coughed, spluttering as I continued shoving her across the room. With a final push, I slammed her up against the wall, my sword leveled at her aristocratic throat, and glared at her.

“Don’t. Bloody. Move,” I growled, my eyes flinty. Hers were wild with anger and fright, and at this proximity I was flooded with her overly lush lavender perfume. I felt a bit mad as she struggled, trying to push back against me. After all that she had done, all of the pain I had suffered because of her, I finally had the upper hand. Most of the fight had gone out of her the moment I had put my sword to her throat, but part of me couldn’t help myself. I leaned in a bit more and nicked her with it. She yelped, now looking truly terrified.

“You wretched bitch,” I snarled at her. “Everything that you have is still not good enough!”

I am sure she would have spat back an answer if she had any breath left. As I continued glaring at her I heard Guy’s panther-like footsteps invade the doorway at breakneck speed, and he appeared, his sword raised. Thornton was close behind, uncomfortably holding a kitchen stool over his head. Both of them stopped upon seeing my sword at Sabine’s throat, and looked comically annoyed at their missed timing. Guy’s arrival, however, was not lost on Sabine. Regaining a bit of her voice, she squeaked out,

“Guy! She attacked me when you left…save me from this madwoman!”

“Shut up!” I snapped, pushing her further into the wall. “We both know bloody well who attacked who!”

Guy slowly lowered his sword, regarding me with interest. “Nyssa, what—“

“She stole the keys and tried to smash in my head,” I said, never taking my eyes from Sabine. “And now that Guy is here, perhaps you’d like to tell him why you were really in his rooms today!”

The anger in Sabine’s eyes was replaced with absolute terror. Her face went from white to a near gray color. She shook her head slightly, begging me with her eyes.

“Tell him, damn you!” I said, “or I will gut you like a fish! Tell him about Will and the fact that you’re fucking him! Tell him about working for Hood!”

At these words, something in Guy snapped. He pulled me away abruptly, sword and all, into a crumpled heap on the floor. As I looked up, he grabbed Sabine by the throat, his black-gloved hands beginning to tighten. “Hood? You are working for Hood?!?!” he practically screamed at her. “Tell me everything, you wretch!!”

“It was for my family only, Guy,” Sabine choked out, her words weak. “My father and Hood have been corresponding, and…I needed someone to love me...” Her next words were cut off by Guy’s fingers bearing down on her windpipe. Alarmed, I saw that her face had become quite pink, and she was gasping for air as Guy began to squeeze. His face was demonic, vengeful, and I knew soon that he would choke her to death if I did nothing. Desperate, I turned to Thornton. “Water!” I shouted. He paused, looking confused, then ran as I hissed the word at him again. I stood up and dragged myself over to Guy’s arm. “Guy, stop!” I said. “Stop this! You’ll kill her!”

“She deserves to die,” Guy snarled, still looking at nothing but Sabine. “Pretending to love me, and then lying with Hood’s men!”

“Guy, stop!” I shouted at him, quite panicked. Sabine now had gone white and light was dying from her eyes. I dragged Guy’s face to away from hers to mine and slapped him lightly. “If you kill her it’s war for certain with France. Philip will make any excuse, and you handing it to him! Is it really worth one strumpet for a whole country? Think, Guy! Remember Marian!”

It was as if I had buried my sword into his heart all the way to its hilt. Guy released Sabine, who fell to the floor, choking and gasping. Thornton skeetered into the room with a pan of water, which he abruptly and ill-timedly threw into Guy’s face. Confused at first, Guy breathed in heavily, once, twice, water dripping from his hair. His face stricken, he tried to speak and failed. As I looked up at him, I realized his eyes were brimming with tears, which made my own a bit wet. I nodded softly as I looked at him as if to say You made the right choice this time when he fell into my arms, sobbing like a small boy. I held him, soothing back his hair of this giant man while Thornton stared on and Sabine slowly struggled to her side, trying to breathe again properly.

The four of us remained in those positions for a few minutes before Sabine was able to clumsily struggle to her feet. “This is not over, slut,” she coughed at me, her face icy. 

“Oh yes it is,” Guy said, standing and turning to her. His great height dwarfed her small peevish presence, making her seem like an insect in comparison. “It is completely over. The contract is broken, you spying bitch. Get out of my house before I drag you out by your hair.” His tone was dangerous. He put a hand to his sword and twitched towards her and Sabine flew to the door, hurriedly wrenching it open and pelting down the hallway towards whatever fate awaited her.

Still shaken, Guy turned to me. “So she was the French spy I’d heard of. Here, right in front of my nose. How long have you known, Nyssa?”

I sighed. “Since you came to see me at my house, the night I nearly died. I saw them…together and heard him asking her to retrieve letters for him afterwards. I was in such shock…you know that Will and I were close. That was what made me so ill, and I’ve been trying to recover enough to tell you for the past three days, until we had an argument about your marriage.” My eyes met his in a clear, blue gaze, and Guy finally loosened his grip on his own sword.

“Thornton, leave,” he said in a commanding tone. “Now.”

My stomach felt icy as Guy continued staring at me. He stood for a few moments, simply staring at me as the door closed and Thornton’s footsteps began to recede. His gaze never faltering, Guy roughly began unbuttoning his doublet. My heart beat in a quickening rhythm. He pulled it off, revealing a loose fitting shirt under it.

“Do you still love Will?” he asked brusquely, glaring at me. 

“Guy, don’t,” I said to him. His face was thunderous, and he began advancing on me.

“Do you still love him, Nyssa?” he said. He wrenched the collar of his shirt open, tearing it down the front and shrugged out of it, still moving towards me. Now nervous, I raised my sword. “Stop this,” I said trying to sound calm. 

Guy responded by raising his own sword. “I charge you to tell me before God if you still love him!”

I moved first, striking against his blade. “You have no right to ask me that!”

“Yes, I do!!” Guy roared, parrying back. I moved away, realizing he was backing me into a corner as he always did. As I remembered, I feinted left, and Guy moved to block me, but then I rolled right. Swearing, he turned, and our blades clashed together in a ringing of steel.

“No, you bloody idiot!” I shouted, my face ablaze with anger. “I love you and I have always loved you! I never stopped loving you! I will love you until the day I die, whether it’s today or in thirty years!”

His face lost its fury, but not its passion. He stepped towards me, his sword still raised. “Then by God, Nyssa, there is nothing more to come between us. You are my love, my passion and my undying desire. Before sundown tomorrow, you will be my wife.” 

Trembling, we stared at each other. Seconds went by, our swords still raised, passions still high. Then simultaneously, we dropped them and Guy swept me into his arms, carrying me towards the bed. In a rugged voice he whispered,

“Now let me finally perform a husband’s duties to his wife, as they are long overdue.”


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

My heart beat at a frantic, excited pace as Guy crossed the room with me in his arms. My eyes were blurry with tears, the only word in my mind; finally. He laid me down gently on the bed, and covered me with himself, both of us still clothed. I was both nervous and excited at the same time, but my body was and had been ready so long for this moment that it was already squirming beneath him, trying to wrap itself around him, my arms gripping him like a drowning man, my breath hot and anxious.

“Easy, my love,” Guy said softly, fending off my attack softly. “I don’t mean to hurry this, and it should never be hurried with one you love.”

“How many times have you done this?” I blurted out, then flushed. Guy looked at me, amused but caring. 

“To be honest, many,” he said. “But that’s to your advantage, as hopefully by now I know what I’m doing.”

“You won’t be thinking of all the other times right now?” I asked him, still anxious. “What if I’m not up to standard?”

“Nyssa, half of those other times, I was thinking of you,” he said. “Christ’s bones, if you keep talking, I will have to gag you. You will be sublime, no matter what happens.”

He covered my mouth with a strong kiss, should I decide to do as he expected. I mumbled against him and rolled my eyes, annoyed, but felt relieved at his words as his long fingers tangled in my hair. I heard his boots drop to the floor as he gently shucked them off, and easily moved me towards the back of the bed. He pushed insistently at the back of my head so that I would meet his lips, and I surrendered at last, kissing him back, my body loose and pliable, my heart warm against his bare chest. We rolled together over and over again, from one side of the bed to the other, kissing so hard that I was afraid I would faint from loss of breath. Guy’s hands never left my face the whole time, caressing my face and neck, and he pressed his body to mine as if to brand himself eternally on me. His movements became more deliberate, his hips sliding against mine, pressuring that place in me that was so full of want, then pulling away until I sighed. “Ah, yes, my love,” Guy whispered, his voice in my ear. “Moan for me. I want to hear you cry out my name.”

He thrust himself against me, a bit harder this time, and a cry did escape my lips, “Guy….” I could not help it. The hardness straining against his breeches tormented me. I felt Guy’s hand travel up my bare leg to move my nightdress aside, then traveled up the other side of my leg to my inner thigh. I was hot and damp with desire for him as he touched me there, and moaned against his hand as he put it between us, touching himself and me. He made a small motion and I saw that he was freeing himself from the leather breeches at last. My hand moved down to touch him as I had in my sleep and I saw him take his breath in sharply and he groaned, holding my hand with his on his manhood, circling lightly. He was so straight and magnificent, and my own breath quickened as I saw his mouth open and groans escape his lips. I had never done this before, but seeing his manhood grow a deeper shade of red, I bent over and put my mouth on him there, kissing him, licking at the tip, until his responses were rhythmic and agonized. I took him into my mouth then, or as much of him as I could until I heard him explete,

“Oh damn, Nyssa, I’m sorry I can’t…I have to take you now…”

His arousal had been mine, and I smiled mischievously at him. He near attacked me then, pulling off my nightdress over my head and gripping me to him. I had expected him to lay me down and cover me with his body, but instead he sat and pulled me over him, his ardor clear but barely controlled. “Come here,” he said roughly, opening my legs over him, “as if you were to sit. I don’t want to hurt you and you can control what pleasures you this way. I will help you.”

I was moved by his submission to me, especially from such a dangerous, powerful man. I tensed a bit before opening myself to him, lowering myself onto his lap and his manhood. Guy sucked in his breath, huskily cursing under his breath. I gasped as I felt him invade me to my very core, his size enormous and overwhelming at first. I had to stop for a moment, though I greedily wanted all of him, and then continue lowering myself, before I was comfortable. Even still, it stung at first, and I squinted my eyes. But that we before Guy began moving me. He held my waist in his large hands, thrust up and pushed me down onto him at the same time. I gasped, and my nipples hardened to tiny bits of flesh at his first thrust. The pain lessened and with more thrusts began to change to pleasure. Oh, I wanted more. My thigh muscles worked with Guy’s strong arms, pushing and pulling myself on top of him, ever faster, pleasure screaming through my entire body. Guy’s teeth gently pulled at my nipples as he held me to him, my cries rhythmic and raw, my body working towards its climax, Guy attempting to control his. He was so beautiful and masterful, seeming to know exactly what I needed and when, and shots of delirious desire went through me as I heard my name in his rugged Northern accent, over and over. I heard him as his bliss exploded, seconds before my own, and I screamed his name out,

“Oh...oh...my lord…Guy…I love you!” I wrapped my arms and legs around him, my tears mingling with my joy, after all that we had been through. I never wanted to move from this position. I wanted to stay locked in this embrace with him for the rest of our lives at least. Guy gasped out, his breathing heavy, but slowing as if after a great race, his arms around me, holding me, his soft lips touching my neck. He swallowed with great effort, then said, 

“You still shatter me, Nyssa. And as I suspected, you were sublime. Less like a wife, and more like…a lioness.” He smoothed my hair away from my forehead, kissing the small cut I had received from the flying saucer. “I love you so much, my lady,” said, his deep blue eyes showing the truth of every word. I reached up to kiss him, feeling satisfied and heavy, and finally at last, fulfilled.

Guy held me like that for several minutes, and then gently laid me down on the bed, stretching out next to me. Part of me couldn’t believe we had finally consummated our relationship. It seemed surreal and I wondered if I was dreaming as I looked at him. His eyes were heavy but he seemed to want to stay awake as well, not to miss anything. I reached out to hold his hand, kissing it as I greedily drank in the sight of him.

“I’m afraid to fall asleep,” I whispered.

“Hmm?” he said, eyelids fluttering.

“I’m afraid I will wake up and find that this was a dream, all of it.”

Guy sat up then sleepily, propped on one elbow. “Oh, little lioness, I promise you that you will wake up and I’ll be here. Because I simply can’t take you only once tonight when I’ve wanted to take you over and over again, every single night for over a year. We have a lot catching up to do.”

I blushed furiously to the roots of my red hair, but smiled a little. “Sir Guy, I doubt you have anything left.”

“Oh yes?” he said, then suddenly moving over me with feline grace, blocking any escape with his body. “Shall we test this theory, Nyssa?”

He made good on his word. That time, he kissed every inch of my body, giving special attention to my womanhood until I came again, and then roughly took me with all the potency of a great stallion. He was fierce, almost violent as he thrust himself into me over and over again and I gasped and moaned with each thrust. The room echoed with our cries of pleasure and the headboard beat a frantic tattoo against the wall. I vaguely wondered what the servants could be thinking.

The next time, I did not care anymore, as he took me from behind and moved exquisitely slowly so that each thrust was glutted with sensation. I climaxed several more times before he was finished with me.

And then in the early morning, as we woke for the first time as husband and wife to be, he took me tenderly, with long slow strokes, as if he were the gentlest lover that could have been. His eyes never left mine and by the end both of us wept tears of joy and emotion, before slipping back into a deep sleep. The sleep was only interrupted by the jarring noise of Thornton’s knock.

“My lord! My lady!” he called out. “I am sorry to disturb you—“

“What is it, Thornton?” Guy growled, reaching for his breeches.

“Sir Guy, I apologize for the disturbance, but a letter was brought yesterday and in the excitement of the day I missed seeing it. My lord, it is from your contact in France…and it has been opened.”

Guy’s eyes met mine, and we simultaneously spoke.  
“Sabine.” “Hood.”


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

As Guy and I spoke, we both flew into action. Guy hurriedly pulled on his breeches began working on his doublet. The room was freezing and my nightdress was on the floor, so I hurried to pick it up, but the two steps I took stopped me short.

“Ow!” I squealed, my legs shaking. I stumbled for a moment, then regained my balance. “That stings!”

Guy turned and half smirked at me as he buttoned his doublet. “Sore, are we, my love?” he asked, sounding both pleased and concerned. My legs trembling, I glared at him. “You know damn well I am.”

Guy’s half smirk widened and he winked at me. “Don’t worry, love. It was our first night together, after all.”

“I think you’re just trying to keep me trapped in this room and using the sword to walk,” I shot at him, annoyed.

Guy reached down to the floor, then picked up my sword. “Oh, this sword?” he said. “Is this the one you mean? Perhaps I’ll keep it for myself, then.”

“Oh, you sod!” I squawked, hobbling across the room, and clamoring to take it from him. He teased me, holding it just out of my reach. And that was how Thornton found us as he burst through the door; a naked woman scrapping with Gisborne for her sword. Guy immediately stepped in front of me to hide my nudity, and I peeked out from behind him like a frightened child. 

Thornton was such a dear man. His looks of surprise never failed to amuse me.

“My lord, you need this information right away,” he stammered, trying to avert his eyes. “Your correspondent requests a meeting with you in the agreed place this afternoon. There is news that must be delivered in person to your source. It is too fragile to be put into a letter.”

Guy’s eyes widened and he looked slightly afraid for the first time. “Does the letter reference the meeting spot, Thornton?” Guy asked. 

Thornton’s face paled. “I’m afraid it does, my lord. No one would have seen this letter but myself, but as I said it was taken from me. I…do beg your forgiveness, my lord.” He bowed his head, expecting to be lashed furiously with Guy’s acrid tongue, but I stepped in.

“Thornton, you have done well, and there is no way that this could have been prevented. Sabine probably already had it before Guy found her in his rooms, and was looking for more. You likely stopped her from killing me and finding more information.”

Guy glanced at me. I could sense his rage seething, but he kept it in, and said gruffly, “My lady is correct. Please send a maid up for her to wash and dress, Thornton. Both of us will go to the grove to meet with him today. I’m sure Hood expects Nyssa to collect the information and I will not let her go alone, not with him in the woods.” He strode manfully towards his own rooms to change, and Thornton quickly asked, “Are there gowns for my lady to wear?”

“Go to my mother’s chest,” Guy called back, his voice touchingly serious. “They are of a similar size, I believe.”

Eyes downcast, Thornton walked to a chest behind the door as I covered myself with my shift, and opened it with a key from his large key ring. “Thank you for that kindness, my lady,” he said, his eyes darting back towards the door, lest he be caught speaking to me. “Sir Guy is much kinder since you have come to live here.” He moved towards the chest and lifted the lid. “No one has opened this for years, my lady,” he said reverently. “These belonged to Lady Gisborne. I think you will find them most satisfactory.”

When he pulled out the first one I nearly gasped. I had never seen, let alone worn material so fine. It was surely made in London or Paris, with sparkling beadwork around the bodice, long, draping sleeves and swirling patterns on the front of a deep green gown. Guy had been right; it looked to be my size as well. I reached out my hand and almost drew it back. “I can’t wear this. I’ve never worn anything so fine,” I said lamely.

“My lady,” Thornton said quietly, “I should think you will have to become to used to it. After last night,” I blushed furiously, “I am fairly certain that you are to be the next Lady Gisborne.”

“But…those are for a noble woman,” I stammered.

“My lady,” said Thornton, his brown eyes compassionate, “if anyone has earned the title of noble, it is yourself.”

I smiled then, touched. He handed the dress to me, then called the maid into the room to wash and dress me. She brought a tub full of hot water and sprinkled it with rose petals as she readied the soap. The servants all must think me very snobbish, I thought, as Thornton left. I was no better in class than they, and yet they had to serve me. As the maid, barely fifteen, indicated I should step in, I asked,

“What is your name, miss?”

“Tara, my lady,” she asked, keeping her eyes cast down.

“Tara, I want you to always address me as Nyssa when we are in private, and only in public around those upper class snobs, call me Lady Nyssa. I don’t plan to give myself airs, I am a woolmaker’s daughter. And I want you to tell me if anyone ever mistreats you, or if there is anything you need for your family.” She reached out to start soaping my arm, and I grabbed her hand. “I mean it, Tara.”

“Yes, my lay—yes, Nyssa,” she said, a disbelieving smile in her face. She continued washing me, dried me off and then helped me to dress.

I soon found out why noble ladies often fainted. So many stays, ties and restrictions! The fabric was gorgeous but the style was so opposite of my normal, free-moving shift. “Can you do the corset a bit looser, Tara?” I asked, wheezing.

“Of course, my lady…or you can go without it,” she said, slightly rebellious. “It is only a fashion statement after all.”

“Thank the Lord for that,” I said, rolling my eyes. “This is deucedly uncomfortable.” Tara unlaced and pulled it off, and I breathed a sigh of relief. She then pulled the dress top over an undergarment, and laced it loosely up the front. I decided in that moment that a lady’s maid was either one’s best friend or worst enemy. I thanked her profusely, just before Guy rapped on the door.

“Are you ready?” he called impatiently though the door.

“Half a moment, Guy,” I snapped back at the door. “I have twenty more garments to put on than you do.” Tara’s eyes widened in shock and glee as the door handle turned and Guy stepped into the room. He cut an imposing figure clad in a clean, sapphire blue shirt that matched his eyes, and a different set of leather breeches. His doublet was slung over one arm, his own sword strapped at the ready. As he regarded me, Guy’s eyes were nervous and stormy, but lightened when he saw me in his mother’s dress. As usual, his eyes travelled up and down my figure and his step slowed to an almost arrogant gait as he approached me. I could tell that he approved of what he saw by the hungry look on his face. I then noticed his eyes light on my chest, and a slight frown appeared.

“Are you…not wearing…”

“That horrid torture device that passes as fashion?”

“Yes.”

“Hell, no. You bloody wear it for five minutes and see how you like it.”

Guy shifted uncomfortably. “The dress looks…most odd without it.”

“I told you I don’t care about your posh upper class traditions. I don’t want my breasts spilling out for everyone to see, like Sabine’s always were.” Tara’s face now contorted, trying not to laugh and squeak simultaneously. “I won’t last an hour in that thing, and we have a long day ahead.” I took the matching cloak Tara was holding and wrapped it around myself. “Now, no one will know, because no one will see.” I smiled up at him challengingly. “Shall we clear out?”

“Riding may be most uncomfortable for you without the corset,” Guy hissed at me as we walked downstairs.

“If it is, it won’t be for the lack of a corset. It’s your fault I can’t walk and you expect me to ride, you bloody lunatic,” I tossed back at him.

A slow, wicked smile spread across Guy’s face, and his rich laughter echoed down the hallway as he took my arm and led me to the stables. It was a bot of a walk, and I held onto him as I really was having a hard time walking. We went down two more flights of stairs and rounded the corner to find Guy’s stable boy John smiling, and holding Lily and Aomir at the ready for us. The pair of them looked quite content together, and I clapped my hands happily to see Lily again. Guy turned to John and said,

“John, if you would not mind, please fetch a small pillow for my lady to use. She is unused to riding a horse,” he said, winking at me. “Of course, Sir Guy,” John said smartly, hurrying back to the barn. 

I glowered. “Unused to riding, indeed! Five crowns that I’ll outpace you before you’ve had a chance to see it happen,” I said out the side of my mouth.

“Done,” Guy said, sounding bored but smiling with his eyes. He swung himself up onto Aomir, clicked him into movement, and grinned down at me. “I’ll just start then, shall I?” he called, trotting towards the main road.

“But I’m waiting for my pillow!” I shouted. “That’s not fair, Guy!”

“And I don’t need a pillow,” he called back, breaking into a canter. “However I’m sure I could buy a nice one with that five crowns you owe me…”

“Bleeding sod,” I cursed, as James came out and hurriedly laid the pillow on my saddle, helping me to mount Lily. I gently placed myself on her back, sucking in my breath. Oh yes, this was going to be a bit challenging. But nevertheless, I urged Lily into a gallop, hurrying along the main road until I caught sight of Sir Guy. He smiled when we pulled up next to him, neck in neck, and then I could not help but laugh. “You delayed with on purpose with that pillow and I thought you were concerned for me!” I cried at him, annoyed and amused. 

“Who says I wasn’t?” Guy grinned back. “Now you’ll never know. Hya!”

We continued down the road, until Guy abruptly reined Aomir in on the main road. “Slow, boy, slow,” he said gently to the big stallion. Aomir tossed his mane in protest, wanting to run, but Guy held him back. Lily caught up and I held her back as well, breathing a bit heavily. “What is it, Guy?” I asked.

“Get down for a moment,” he said, sliding off of Aomir. I glared at him. “I already owe you five crowns,” I said. “Is this another trick?”

“No, I am completely serious,” Guy said back, now tying up Aomir to a nearby post, as I realized with shock where we were. I looked at him questioningly, then slowly dismounted from Lily, and did the same. “Are you certain about this?” I asked, slightly nervous.

“Positive,” Guy answered, and took my arm as we entered the walk to the business door. I walked gingerly with him, still feeling awkward. He noticed this, and lifted my chin to his. “Let me handle this,” he said, “and you enjoy it.” He held my hand gently as we walked inside

The shopkeeper’s voice rang out in a friendly, patronizing tone. “Ah, Sir Guy! So very glad to see you in my shop today! And is this your lovely bride-to-be again? Welcome, ma’am,” he said, stooping to kiss my hand, and then stopping in mid-gesture as he looked up at me in shock.

“Hello, Morrison,” I said coolly.

“I haven’t time for pleasantries; save them for priggish bitches like Sabine,” Guy said sharply, but in his deep voice I heard a withheld smile, like a cat playing with a mouse. “Lady Nyssa and I are here to buy her wedding dress,” he continued, as Morrison began to sweat. “We are to be married this day. You’d best give me the finest dress in the shop and give her the finest price, or she will know, and I will get very, very angry.”


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

“Well, now at least I know why you were so insistent I wear the corset today,” I said, smiling as Guy led me out of the shop on his arm. “Though I did enjoy shocking Morrison to his core.”

“Regardless, that was the most beautiful wedding dress in the shop; far better than what Sabine was ordering from Paris,” Guy replied, glowering. “You should have seen it. Frills, ribbons, explosions of fabric everywhere, and nothing left to the imagination. And lastly, which is far better, love, you robbed Morrison for that dress.”

I snickered. I had chosen a classic A-line dress with a high waist that complemented my own small frame, but highlighted curves as well. The front was decorated with two silver panels laced with beading, and the neckline by real jewels. Morrison shuddered when I offered what I knew he had probably paid for it, but left his complaints behind when he looked over at Guy. I had smirked all the way through the fitting and was glad to be done with it now. We were headed back outside and to the horses, when Guy suddenly pulled me into an alleyway a few feet away from the main street. I nearly tripped and fell, until he caught me in his arms, and began to hold onto me desperately.

“Nyssa,” he said, holding me between himself and the wall, “I don’t know what is going to happen when we meet the correspondent. There will likely be violence, perhaps even death. Hood will most certainly be there. Will you not consider letting me go to meet him, and staying behind at the Manor where you will be safe?”

I rolled my eyes at him and shook my head. “If you are to be killed, I may as well be too,” I said gently, touching his face. “You know I am not going to stay behind, Guy.”

He looked at me, his bright eyes even more intense than usual, and then pulled me roughly into his arms. “God, I love you so much, lioness,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. He began to kiss me then, urgently, and with a passion that reminded me of our first kiss at my house. I responded, wrapping my arms around him, but also glancing at the alleyway, aware that we were practically in public. Guy continued his assault on my lips until they were swollen, and I was mightily roused. As I glanced nervously down the alleyway a second time, I felt his heartbeat quicken and his own arousal spike. He pressed me against the wall, breathing hard. “I have to have you, Nyssa,” he practically gasped. “If we may die today, the last thing I want to do is to be with you and give you pleasure.”

“Guy, no!” I whispered. “Someone could come by…” And even as I said it, I felt damp and moist with want for him, despite my own soreness.

“So you will have to be very quiet,” he said, laying a finger over my lips. “You can’t make…a sound.” I groaned at the thought of this torture, and yet was thrilled by the thought of making love to him again. As this thought passed through my head, Guy’s hands worked extraordinarily fast, unlacing the front of my gown. He pulled the outer layer open, and reached inside to caress my breasts, cupping and kneading them until I closed my eyes, frustrated that an undergarment still lay between his hands and my throbbing flesh. Guy then lowered his head and deftly licked the thin fabric around the tips of my breasts until it was wet and translucent, and my nipples stood up tight and hard under it. He cupped the fabric against them, looking at the hard, pink knobs of flesh that stood out beneath his hand and I felt his stiffness nearly burst out against my womanhood. I gasped, and he slammed his hand over my mouth, crushing me against the wall and pressing himself into me. 

“Not. A. Sound.”

My eyes met his as I nodded, but oh, it was so difficult. I held his rear in my hands, pressing him closer to my womanhood that was so full of ache and want, and saw his eyes close in pleasure at the pressure. He then returned his attention to my upper body, pulling down the undergarment, baring my breasts for any passerby to see, and began suckling with an urgency that made me bite my lips to keep from screaming. I pulled his head closer to me, and it was always then that he chose to back away. Frustrated, my hands sought the opening of his breeches, and fumbled until he was unsheathed, and unseen in the folds of my dress. Guy abruptly grabbed my hands and put them around his neck, then took hold of my rear and raised my skirts. “If I hurt you, tell me,” he said evenly, his eyes never leaving mine. 

His first thrust was a shock, even though I was so ready, and my body protested at this invasion yet again. At the same time I nearly exploded with mutual pleasure and agony as he entered me and stifled another cry. Guy’s mouth was smirking, then opened as he continued his sexual release. His breathing became ragged and heavy, his rhythm fast, and then slow, as he saw me about to climax, always holding himself back. In one of those peaks and valleys, I heard the laughter of children and a family passing on the main road. I glanced back at the alleyway opening, horrified and aroused simultaneously. As Guy heard them, he stopped his thrusts for a moment. The family moved slowly, not seeing us, the children dawdling. Guy waited for them to pass, his eyes locked with mine. We remained torturously still, breathing hard as they moved on, and Guy covered my mouth with his hand. His manhood twitched inside of me, desperate for friction and I clenched myself around him, making him utter a guttural sound. Once the family had passed however, Guy drove me even harder against he wall, his rhythm fast and desperate, my breasts shaking from each shocking thrust, both of gasping and trying to keep silent. Neither of us could do so during the final crest of pleasure, Guy whipping me against the wall as he held me, and a rough cry escaped both of our lips. Once still, we remained like that for a moment, half conscious but uncaring about our public spectacle. Finally, he breathed out slowly and released me, gently letting my down from my perch on his body. Legs trembling, I stood and quickly attempted to fix the top of my gown, and he readjusted his clothing as well. Both of us began to take slow, deep breaths to calm down, and then I could not help but kiss him again, and was rewarded by his soft, gentle response. 

“Did I hurt you, love?” he asked me when we had finished kissing. 

“Hmm. Hurt, love, lady, whore…so many labels,” I said. “I’ve decided that labels are the monikers of the tedious and unimaginative. However, one thing I can’t say,” I added, blushing, “is that I’ve ever done anything like that before.”

Guy had the grace to color a little. “I am sorry if you felt ill-used,” he said quickly. “I only—“

“Sir Guy,” I said sternly. “Occasional ill-use is exciting, as long as it doesn’t become a habit.”

“Never.”

We emerged from the alleyway, our steps a bit lighter than before, mounted our horses and headed to the lily grove. Both of us listened, on extra awareness as we ascended the hill to the grove and Guy motioned quietly that we should take a different path up than the marked one. I followed him as Aomir picked a steep trail up the side of the hill, and Lily followed them without question. I felt suddenly nervous, my heart beating a frantic pace as we neared the scene of exchange. The air around us felt charged with energy, as if there were many other presences here in the woods that we simply could not see. I watched Lily carefully as she stepped on the way up, only tripping once and quickly regaining her footing, but conscious that we could all tumble down the steep hill together. I felt a small amount of relief when the ground leveled out and Guy led us to a clearing in which we could see the grove. He dismounted and then lifted me off of Lily, tying the two horses loosely to a nearby log. He then sat on it, motioning to the place next to him. “Now what do we do?” I asked nervously.

“We wait.”

And wait we did, for what felt like an eternity. The day grew warmer after an hour and midges flocked to Guy and I as we sat under the shade of the trees. A cool breeze would have been most welcome, but the day was still and close, almost eerily so. Every now and again we would hear what sounded like the snap of a twig or the rustle of a branch and Guy’s hand went to his sword, but nothing appeared afterwards. There was nothing for us to do but continue watching for our contact to appear. Guy held my hand, glancing at me occasionally with a small smile, then returning his attention to the lily grove. 

“Remember the first day we met here?” I said softly to him.

Guy smiled. “Yes, I do. Why do you think I chose it to hide the letters? It is a sacred place to me.” He looked at me, took my hand and then kissed it. Suddenly his eyes flew open and he listened intently. I followed suit and heard the rustling sound of three pairs of footsteps getting closer. A finger over his mouth, Guy crept closer to the grove, near on his belly, his sword now drawn, and watched to see who entered. I held my breath in anticipation.

With a swish of leaves, three figures entered the grove, all in long cloaks with the hoods drawn. The tallest man led, followed by the two shorter. Their cloaks were the deep red of King John’s crest, and it was immediately clear that they must have been sent by him, one being the mysterious writer on the other side of the pen. Despite myself, I was excited to know what information was to be exchanged. I looked to Guy who motioned that I should enter the grove from the back as they had and that he would watch and wait for me to see what happened. I worked my way down and around so that I could do this, causing as little stir as possible, because it was very likely that the men were armed. Once I was in the proper place, I walked gingerly out towards them as they had stopped in front of the old mill remains. The tallest saw me and immediately drew his sword. 

“Are you the correspondent from Gisborne Manor?” he asked, stepping forward.

“Yes, sir. My name is Nyssa. And I assume you are King John’s correspondent.” I replied trying to sound calm.

The man seemed uncertain, his eyes sweeping over my attire. “We were told to expect a tradesman’s daughter, not a lady,” he said suspiciously.

“I am a tradesman’s daughter, sir,” I replied. “Ask me whatever you wish about the wool trade and I can answer it.”

“What grade of wool would you use for a lady’s cap?” he asked me.

“Very fine, likely merino, and it should be shrunk first before knitting or it will look a fright for the lady in question,” I fired off. “And that cap should go for about seven crowns, depending upon bead decoration and pattern.”

The man looked both surprised and impressed. He lowered his sword. “Impressive. But why then are you dressed as a lady rather than as your class indicates?”

“Because she is Gisborne’s spying whore,” a new voice snarled. Startled, I turned to see who it was, as did my three companions. The tall one redrew his sword, as did the second. My eyes searched the grove frantically, and at last lighted on Robin Hood, who had been hiding and watching us from behind the waterfall all along. He stepped out now, his bow and arrow trained on the tall man, and four of his men, including Will, joined him, all with weapons drawn. As a final flourish, Sabine pranced out next to Will, and hung lightly on his arm. She had obviously spent the night with them, as she wore only a corset and overskirt, her finery abandoned, and her yellow hair taken down from its usual lavish style. In fact, our appearances had never been more reversed. I stared at Hood’s gang as she grinned at me

“Hello, you upstart slattern,” she sang out.

“Who are you?” the tall man called out, advancing forward.

“No friend of John’s,” Hood snapped back. He then pointed at me, signaling to his men. “Take her, now. And kill the two armed spies, but leave the third for questioning.”

Several things then occurred in succession. Two arrows flew, felling John’s two correspondents. The third immediately ran for cover, and was given chase by two of Hood’s men. Then Will and Little John each had one of my arms and were dragging me out of the grove, towards Sabine and Robin. At the same moment, Guy exploded, sword in hand, from the underbrush. “HOOD!” he shouted. “Take whatever life you want, including mine, but let Nyssa go. Let her go!”

The moment Hood saw Guy, a cruel smile slid over his handsome face. “Gisborne.” 

He stepped forward, his arrow still drawn, and spun himself to the left so that its point was aimed at my heart. His voice low, eyes icy, he spoke again to Guy.

“You took the life of the woman I loved. Now I can finally repay the favor.”


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

A cold sweat broke out on my forehead as I saw the point of Hood’s arrow ready to fly. My eyes flew to Guy who stood by helplessly, his sword drawn, eyes frantic. “Hood, this is between us,” he said pleadingly. “Leave Nyssa out of it. It’s me you want to kill, not her.”

“On the contrary,” Hood said, his eyes never leaving his target. “It’s her I want to kill, and you I want to eternally suffer, as I have suffered.” His arm tensed, drawing back.

“Sir Robin,” I said slowly, “I can assure you that Guy has already suffered eternally for what he has done, and will never be at peace with it. You already have what you want.”

“Shut up, slut!” Hood barked at me. “Obviously his remorse is short lived if he can take another woman into his bed. He never loved Marian as I loved her.”

“Perhaps she didn’t love you as you loved her!” I burst out. “Did you ever stop to think that she was caught between you both, not knowing who to chose until her last moments, when it was too late? You sully the memory of an honorable woman by reducing her to a trinket that you both fought over!”

“Nyssa, be quiet!” Guy snapped. I glared at him and went on mercilessly.

“Sir Robin, your grief is Guy’s grief. Did Sabine tell you that Guy nearly choked her when he found out she was spying for you? He stopped himself because he remembered Marian, and because he will always hate himself for what he did. He loved her too, Sir Robin.” I said carefully, seeing the rage and hurt in his eyes soften a bit. “Can you imagine what it is to destroy the one person you truly love and never be able to make up for it? To know every day that you are a murderer, and of one you loved? To live with that guilt and knowledge forever?”

Hood eyes grew cloudy with tears. His lips trembled, thinned, became hard again, and then softened. Slowly I saw the tension in his arm lessen and in an agonizing motion, he lowered his arrow. In my shock, I realized his shoulders were shaking with sobs. “I…already know that pain,” he said. “It is mine too. I should have kept her safe. She would be alive today if I had.”

I glanced at Guy, whose eyes were also uncommonly bright. He blinked rapidly, looking at me with such love and pride that for a moment I forgot I was being held by Will and Little John. A welcome wind lifted the hair on my forehead and for a moment the tension in the air lessened. Until, of course, I heard the familiar shriek of Sabine.

“Have you gone mad?” she squawked at Hood, pushing at his arrow arm. “Shoot her! Shoot her!”

“I will not,” Hood said, still struggling with his emotions. “God knows we have all suffered enough for one lifetime. Even Gisborne,” he said, lifting his chin to give Guy a long, meaningful glance. Guy nodded, returning it.

Ugly rage broke out on Sabine’s delicate features. “Well, if you won’t kill her, I will!” she hissed. Before I could move, she had turned and swiftly pulled a dagger out of Hood’s cloak. “Sabine, no!” I heard Guy shout. Smiling wickedly first at Guy, Sabine took a step backwards, stared hard at me and threw. And as I remembered from her last attempt at me in the Manor, she was a lousy aim. She threw for me, and my eyes closed involuntarily, waiting for the knife to land in my cheek or shoulder.

What I didn’t expect was for Will release my arm and crumple beneath me, lying motionless.

As I looked downward at him, I screamed, breaking loose of Little John’s grip. I knelt down holding Will’s face, as he rolled painfully to one side, the dagger deeply embedded in his stomach. Sabine simply stared, frozen to the ground where she stood, unbelieving. Hood’s men fell into shock, each one turning white and unmoving in the moment. I heard myself crying out Will’s name, throwing myself next to him, denying that he had been struck down, holding his face in my hands, shaking my head, crying. It could not be. Will’s hand gently found one of mine and he looked up at me, the love I had once known returned to his eyes. “Nyssa,” he said in a labored voice. “Brave… Euridice.” The light began to fade from his eyes as he spoke his last. 

“Live happily…above the Underworld.” His grip on my hand loosened, and he relaxed. The grove went absolutely silent, other than my labored breathing, sobs ripping their way out of my throat. “Oh, Will...” I said, touching his cheek.

“NOOOO!” screamed Sabine. “Non, mon Dieu, s’il vous plait, non…” Her moans turned to fury as she laid eyes on me. “Putain rousse, épouse du diable!” Enraged beyond anything I had seen, she made for me, throwing herself on me to get me away from Will’s body.

The hit was surprisingly hard from the weight of such a small woman. I landed on my back and raised my arms to defend myself as she went at my eyes with her nails. “Misérable salope!” I heard her scream. She slapped my face, beat at my arms, tore at my hair, ripping out close to a fistful before I reacted to defend myself. I elbowed her in the neck, knocking her off of myself and trying to move away. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Guy lope forward with is sword drawn, but I shook my head at him. I stood, breathing heavily, and faced her.

“All right, Sabine,” I said slowly. “You’ve wanted to be rid of me forever. Come and claim me if you dare!”

Sabine’s answer was lost in a furious scream as she charged at me. What she did not know was that behind me in the grove was a steep drop-off to the woods below. As she ran at me, hair wild, eyes like a harpy’s, I stepped aside and gave her a mighty push toward the edge of the ravine. Her eyes widened in shock as she flew past me, arms flailing to try to stop the inertia of her fall. She tripped, stumbled, and nearly broke her fall on a tree halfway down, but as she did so, the tree’s upright branch caught in the laces of her corset. The force of her downward fall combined with the pressure of the tree slammed the corset ties into the branch, padlocking her and snapping her neck in one neat motion. She hung there like a ghastly doll, twirling slowly on her branch, her golden hair ruffling in the indifferent wind. 

I swallowed, feeling a click in my throat as I looked downward at the grisly scene. Guy quickly ran over, glanced down and then away just as quickly. I struggled, barely controlling the need to vomit as he lent me his arm and pulled me away from the ravine’s edge. Weakly I gazed up at him, my face white. “No corsets,” I said. 

“Of all the times for an argument, “ Guy grumbled underneath his breath. We walked back towards Hood and his men, who had respectfully wrapped Will’s body in a cloak and were carrying him away. I stiffened, and almost began crying again. As we approached, the men grew tense and I elbowed Guy, who abruptly laid down his sword. I leaned on him. “Sir Robin,” I said, “Will was…” I stopped, my eyes filling with tears. “I don’t know what right I have to say anything about Will. He was a true friend to me and I thought I loved him. I will never forgive myself for causing…” Now I could no longer speak, remembering Will’s last, selfless words of comfort.

“Nay, lady,” Hood said. “ ’Twas not your doing, but that French witch. And if you had not dispatched her, I would have done,” he said bitterly. “I should have known better than to trust the French.”

“Then we do agree on something,” Guy cut in querulously. Hood eyed him sharply, then said,

“Sir Guy, I have granted the life of your woman today. Do not demand more of me, or this truce is at an end.”

“Hood…Sir Robin,” Guy began. “I swear on the life of my wife, that I will not be the one to break the peace made here today.”

“Your wife?” Hood said, looking surprised. “When did you marry?”

“Last night,” I said, taking Guy’s arm. “The public ceremony is today, though we have yet to find a friar.”

Hood’s eyes alighted on us with interest. “So you’ve found your match, eh, Gisborne?” Hood asked. He glanced at me again. “Yes, I believe you have.”

“More than a simple match,” Guy answered him. “This woman has loved me, lied to me, beaten me at arms and saved my life.”

“Labels,” I muttered at him. “As if you’ve been a perfect gentleman yourself.”

A vague smile shadowed Robin’s face. “I see more than a trace of Marian in you, lady,” he said gravely. “And I am the more glad that I spared your life. If she lives in you, then I have not lost all of her after all.” He glanced at Guy, still cautious. “As a gesture of goodwill, I will send Friar Tuck to you at dinnertime in case you have need of him.” 

“That won’t be…” Guy began, and I elbowed him again, a bit harder this time, “…unappreciated, Sir Robin.”

Hood sighed, then nodded briefly, flashing a short smile at Guy. “Sorry about your correspondent,” he said cheerfully. “We only found a girl with them, so we let her go. I must see to Will’s burial. Farewell, my lady. Gisborne.” He shouldered his bow and arrows and headed off into the woods after his men. I winced a bit at his last words, and Guy’s arm went around me instinctively. We watched them go for several minutes, holding one another, aware that both of us had narrowly escaped death. I began to let out a long, emotional sigh, when I suddenly heard a new, lilting voice colored by a beautiful Devon accent.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but…are you Sir Guy?”

We both turned and saw the third figure from the woods, who had been hooded so that we had been unable to tell she was a woman. She was very fair, with deep blue eyes and long curling dark hair, almost Irish in its character. She looked at us expectantly, and Guy immediately answered, bowing deeply,

“Yes, my lady, I am Sir Guy. I offer my deepest apologies for the death of your colleagues. I had not expected so many adversaries who then became friends.”

“Yes, it is odd,” she said, her intelligent eyes flashing at us. Her gaze moved to mine. “You must be Nyssa. My name is Tiger Rose. That Hood is a bit of wet lettuce, isn’t he?”

I smiled in spite of myself. “Yes, I would agree,” I said, “though he did spare my life today.”

“Ah, lovely, that’s because you’re a woman and he still underestimates our strength and importance.”

I sniggered. “Agreed.” My gaze softened again. “I am so sorry about your friends. Now we may never know what King John intended for us to hear.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” the girl answered, a smirk on her face. Guy and I exchanged confused looks. Her blue eyes mischievous, Tiger Rose said,

“The other two were my guards. I am the correspondent who’s been writing you.”


End file.
